Post by Smith Jones on Dec 1, 2019 10:08:23 GMT -5
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~ OFF CAMERA ~
We hear loud, raucous laughter of two male individuals sitting in the middle of the ring in Smith Jones’ underground training chamber on the outskirts of Toronto, Canada. It is indeed Smitty himself sitting cross-legged on the canvas with his recently acquainted eighteen year old son Copeland Sanderson, who is lying on his back on the mat. They both laugh hysterically.
“...And then, we get to the gas station, like, three hours later, and Skeech’s hot chocolate is still stuck on the roof by the rainwater! We drove from PEI to Nova Scotia with that hot chocolate stuck to the roof. They still call me wheels ‘cause they said it was my smooth driving that kept it up there!”
They both laugh again. Smith’s laughter peters out as his face freezes in a half smile, staring again at his son like he is seeing him for the very first time. It wasn’t long ago that it was the first time. Copeland notices that Smith has stopped laughing.
“Dad! What does it feel like to be Alpha World Champion?”
The question hits him like a ton of bricks.
“Pressure. Constant pressure to be the best every time I open my mouth. Every time I go out in public, I have to be Smith Jones. Every… every corner of the locker room, every brick in every wall is filled with eyes and ears. Every guy and gal back there wants to be holding that belt.”
He looks over to where The World Title belt is slung over the back of a steel folding chair sitting at ringside. Smith’s eyes remain locked on it.
“All those people from my past who think they know me are in my past for a reason. I give them every opportunity to investigate the incredible champion I’ve become and still they ridicule me for my missteps. I never said I’ve always been the best. I am by no means a perfect man. What I am saying is that I am the best right here, right now. I have been the best more times in my career than ANYONE on this roster; than most in this whole business. You walked through the trophy hall, didn’t you? In fact… how did you really get in here?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets. You mad bro?”
“Mad bro?”
“Nevermind. You didn’t have to cancel your training day to hang out with me. I didn’t come here expecting--”
“Never mind, Copeland. This is fun. I wish your mother hadn’t kept you from me for so many--”
“We don’t have to talk about mom. She was never… Ugh... I moved out.”
Smith pushes his lips out and nods slowly.
“You have no idea how many of her boyfriends I’ve had to… I just consider myself lucky I got you as my father and not some...”
Copeland trails off and stares up at the ceiling.
“You wanna be a wrestler? Rule number two. Never get comfortable lying on your back in the ring. Ever.”
Copeland laughs.
“I mean it.”
Copeland sits up and looks at Smith with a stern sneer.
“Got it. Wipe my feet on the apron. Don’t lie on my back.”
“I’m trying to help you out, here! Do you want to train with me or do you want to--?”
“I need a place to stay, dad. I… Please don’t make me ask.”
“You want to live here in my house?”
“I wanna live here in the training chamber.”
Jones begins to laugh a deep chuckle. Copeland persists.
“I wanna eat, sleep, and breathe wrestling. I wanna be woken up by the sound of people taking bumps. Dad, you’re training for the biggest match of your entire career. Even if you don’t let me step foot inside that ring, I will learn so much from just being here. The level of--”
“NO CHANCE.”
Smith rolls out of the ring and grabs The World Title belt, carrying it towards the long, dark trophy hall. Copeland follows. They walk down the dark hallway.
“I could help out. Like, in little ways. Keep your water bottles full, sweep the ring, tighten the ropes from time to time… I could go buy you wrist tape or answer the phone if you’re busy stretching a rookie. How can I have the very best wrestler in the world as my father and not be allowed to watch you train?!?! What kind of monster are you???”
He chews on that thought for about three seconds.
“I’m Smith Jones.”
They stop at the spot where Smith had smashed the glass case with a sledge hammer. There is broken glass all over the floor. Smith fastens the Alpha World Title to the wall inside the smashed case. As he turns to face Copeland, his son has picked up the sledge hammer and is holding it in a somewhat threatening manner.
“You wouldn’t dream of--”
“Here.”
Copeland hands him the hammer.
“Smash them all. Who are you anymore anyway?”
Copeland walks down the hallway past all of the titles as spotlights flash on and off the whole way. Smith closes his eyes.
~ No real wolves were harmed in the making of this promo ~
~ ON CAMERA ~
Smith slowly opens his eyes. At first, the lights are a little bright, but Smitty's veteran eyes adjust quite quickly to the spotlights. He sees his own reflection in the camera lens as he stands in front of a large APW logo wearing another new robe.
From the camera's perspective, we can now see The World Championship belt locked safely around Jones' waist. The new robe is… is that fur?? Yes. Smith Jones is wearing a wolf skin robe! There is a hood made from the wolf's head. Smith slowly spins. The fur goes partway down his back and is replaced by shiny white material with sparkly silver trim.
Smith Jones' eyes meet yours as he speaks.
“Dean. I’m done seeking.
The wolf within myself is ME.
Let’s play.
Let’s get locked inside Satan’s structure and carve deep scars into each other’s flesh and into each other's psyche that will last until the year twenty forty and beyond. I’m into it. I think I’m about as ready as I’ve ever been. As I stand here today with the Alpha Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship locked safely around my waist, I am the absolute strongest I’ve ever been my entire career; my entire life.
You watched, I KNOW you watched when I recently buried one of the great devils from the past in the sand. I dreaded that match for six months and now it is behind me. And I won.
Monday night at APW Omega, your feeble attempts to overshadow me and look like the monster that you think you are... have failed. You have already failed. I feel like I should walk out on this promo right now and go start hanging streamers for the victory party at Alpha Towers! I’ve been in a love/hate relationship with the fans longer than you can even imagine. And I’ve proven time and again that I do NOT need the support of ANYONE to get the job done. That is why I chose Hell in a Cell as the stipulation for our match. I want to keep everyone out of this!
This simply cannot be a wrestling contest. This is a battle to end the war between us. This is the end of doubt as to which of us is the superior fighter. We are fighting for the very right to continue to be. We will walk the fine line of life or death together.
This… is an extinction level Main Event and I don’t wanna die.””
His mood lightens just a bit as he flashes a crooked smile.
“Come on, Dean. Let’s take a moment to just… y’know, breathe and enjoy the feeling of this. How has it come to be that it’s you and it’s me who have made the ascension, testing our mettle and rising up to fight in a showdown for supremacy here in Alpha Pro?
How cool is this?!
You know and I know that this is going to be the absolute best match that the APW fanbase has ever seen. The stakes are all the way high. World Title. Hell in a Cell. New decade on the horizon. This right here… this is why I got into professional wrestling in the first place. That feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that I deny is fear mixed with excitement mixed with a confusing combination of crippling doubt and overwhelming confidence. To be able to stand here before you in my brand new custom made wolf skin robe in front of the APW lo--”
He cuts himself off. Smith motions for the camera to follow as he walks off the interview set. He heads a short distance to an exit door and steps outside American Airlines Arena and into the sweet Florida sunshine. The robe seems immediately… silly, for lack of a better word. Smith shrugs it off and flourishes it around to his front, draping it gracefully across both of his own outstretched hands. He looks down at it with growing contempt. Jones drops the robe on the ground. He picks up and nearby can of red paint and pours it all over the robe. He throws the paint can down hard on the pavement and red paint spatters all over Smith! It spatters his trademark all white ring gear. It spatters The World Title itself. With renewed fire in his eyes, Smitty speaks on.
“I didn’t even know that I was supposed to be the villain here. All I’ve been doing is working my ass off to make this gorgeous gold belt shine as brightly as possible! And yet, for whatever reason, the people began to hate me right before my deluded eyes!
Tomorrow night, I am going to win you all back.
I am going to wipe the Alpha Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship clean of Dean. Chant that if you want. It’s highly chantable. Clean of Dean. Clean of Dean. Clean of Dean. There is a new decade directly in front of us. All of us here in Alpha Pro Wrestling have done our very best to build ourselves a name under the banner of three letters we had never heard in that order before.
A.
P.
Dub.
In a market where there are successful wrestlers and promotions are all over the world, we were born. We hit hard right out of the gate and we have not slowed down. We are a highly competitive brand with a boss who knows exactly what she’s doing. After the original fat started to fall from the roster, we now have a solid core group of committed, hard-working, never-say-die workers who are all focused on being the best they can be for themselves and for this great company as a whole.
We may get kicked in the teeth a time or two along the way, but we are APW! We will always keep moving forward and being even better than we are today.
This is Alpha Pro Wrestling. Pro wrestling lives here! I am absolutely proud to stand here as your World Champion. Dean seeks to shred my dream of walking into the next decade with my greatest accomplishment locked safely around my waist. He doesn’t believe that I have what it takes to beat him. I am fully aware that he has every intention of breaking me and sending me crawling off into the night to die as a result of his violent rage.
None of my training is going to help me here. I am a blank slate, dressed all in white, ready and open to whatever happens inside Satan’s structure. I am willing to do and to be things I had never imagined if that’s what it’s going to take to bring brimstone crashing down on Dean Wolf’s head.
I am going to wipe this championship clean of Dean!!! I’m going to put his head through that cage.”
Smith walks into the parking lot and climbs up onto the hood of a random car as fans begins to take notice of him there. A crowd of people here to attend Omega All Access quickly forms all around him. He steps up onto the roof, now, of the same car. He yells overtop of the growing noise in the parking lot of American Airlines Arena. The sun beats down brightly, acting as Smitty’s spotlight! The World Title belt glistens in the bright Miami sunlight.
“Wolf! If you plan on having any chance of walking out of this arena alive tonight, you’d better forget everything you’ve ever learned about me. Omega is the end of doubt.
It is the extinction of the Wolf.
Tomorrow night, after I crush your skull in the middle of the ring, I will wipe myself clean of Dean and step into twenty twenty STILL your Alpha Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion.”
Fade to black.
“I’m Smith Jones and I’m right here.”
