Post by Smith Jones on Feb 11, 2020 12:36:28 GMT -5
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“I get it.”
Fade up on a shot of a portion of the ring rope wrapped in white tape. We are quite close up and we can see the details of the tape wrap and strings hanging down here and there. The rope suddenly wobbles as someone enters the ring. The camera zooms out to reveal Smith Jones standing in the middle of the ring inside Bumpz Fight Club in Las Vegas, Nevada. The lighting is low, save for one light directly above the ring. Jones is dressed in a shiny white robe with sparkly silver trim. He is very overdressed for training. His robe hangs open and we see that the Alpha World Championship is locked safely around his waist. He stares into the lens of the camera and he speaks.
“We are the kind of people who strive to be the very best. We are not the comedy gimmick. Not the jobber. Not satisfied to simply be included in the conversation as anecdotal throw-aways. We want to be known the world over as the very best.”
Jones spins to show off the back of his robe. Across the shoulder blades is elegantly embroidered ‘overcome’ in silver. As he rotates all the way around to meet the lens, the camera starts to slowly zoom into Smith.
“I get that. Irina Ivanova says she holds me to a higher standard. Fully know that I hold myself to a higher standard. I’ve never been able to thrive anywhere I didn’t feel like I was performing at my absolute top level at the time. I haven’t always been a World Champion. My career hasn’t always been about sitting on top of the mountain, knowing full well that I can beat anyone who comes my way. But, every step of the way, I have always challenged myself to be the best Smith Jones that I can be every time I lace a boot.”
Jones removes the title belt and slings it somewhat casually over his shoulder with a smirk. He breathes slowly, calmly. He lets go of any slight tension in his shoulders and just… lives on, like it or not.
“Everybody wants to rule The World. Every kid goes through a phase where they imagine what it would be like if they were a rock star or a world leader or a gangster or a king. The World would bend to their will, wouldn’t it? It’s good to be king. The reason why I was able to survive my early days here in APW is that I made a promise to myself that I would never stay down. Go back and watch the first five, six episodes of Monday Night Metal. I went on a bit of a losing skid there. I looked like so many people out there trying their best to turn their passion into paycheques, falling short and begging the heavens for just one more chance to make it big.
I am here today as YOUR Alpha Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion because I will never, ever relent in my perennial pursuit of perfection. So, when I here Odin Balfore talking out of his ass like I’m not here defending the belt he’s already once given up on, that irks me real good. And when Lucy Sixx walks around here running her mouth without first running a background check on the most influential and… incredible superstar that APW has ever seen, that pisses me right off.”
Jones’ aggression is becoming more and more evident. He steps forward and hangs The World Title belt over the top rope, snapping into place. He stands behind the belt literally and figuratively with a sour scowl on his face.
“Truth be told, Lucy, I don’t get the appeal of you one bit. You bore me as much as I bore you and then some. You are obviously a fantastic competitor and you get the job done between the bells, but damn, I must be old because you look like a million other one of a kind hair dye millennial just struggling to be the first and only version yourself fresh off a toy store shelf full of dollies just like you. I have one over on you in that I am not a carbon copy of a generic archetype. There truly is only one Smith Jones. Be me. Try. You can do it. You know how. Just talk a little louder than everyone around you and that makes you infinitely more interesting. Believe that. Live that. Good for you. You remind me of every other self-indulgent, self-centered, self-aggrandizing selfie stick toting blowhard that came before you, banging down the door and demanding attention like a neglected two-year-old. I’ve found no shortage of people to dislike here in my days at Alpha Pro, and you currently sit atop my list of people I want to crush into a million pieces and never lay eyes on again.
I thought it would be cool having Lucy Sixx back around this place to help me and the loyal, faithful core here in this place make APW into the top company on the planet. I genuinely, genuinely smiled when you came back. I did not expect you to waste your time barking about being better than I am. I certainly did not expect you to disrespect the North American Championship by putting up a Twitter poll asking the fans if you should dump it in the trash. Take notes from your gal pal, Cece! At least she makes an effort to defend her championship. At least she’s trying to be a champion!!! What are you doing, Luce? ”
Smith sits and then lies flat, rolling under the bottom rope and sitting up on the apron with his feet hanging over the edge and the Alpha World Championship still hanging from the rope over his right shoulder.
“When The Architects and I daydream, we daydream about a wrestling world where there is respect. Where people are rewarded appropriately for the genuine hard work and sacrifice we put into this game not just this year, but for years passed and years to come. We want to have successful careers, yes, as a group and as individuals, but more so we want to be able to say that we shaped the business and made it into a place where pro wrestling lives; where honour rules! And so, I think that when we see people trying to come into APW and drag it down, it is our duty -- it is indeed as your World Champion MY duty to stand in their way. It is my job in this Triple Threat Match against Lucy Sixx and Frank Patrick Venable (a barn-burner of a Main Event in any fed) to defend what I stand for. To defend my vision of the future. To defend my World from the likes of either of you. Yeah, sure this is a non-title match. I get it. But, get this: I walk into every match like I still have something to prove because I do! It doesn’t matter how many great matches I’ve already had inside this ring. Thousands of road miles. Thousands of bumps. Nagging injuries be damned, here I am. I’m right here. Drink me in. Know, despite your public refusal to admit it, that when the time comes, you will not be strong enough to wrest this spectacular gold belt from my capable hands. And furthermore, even in non-title action, you will NEVER AGAIN be allowed the luxury of diminishing this championship in any way. Not by wearing it as a fashion accessory. Not by trying to invade my territory again, that territory of course being the whole wide world.
I will not stand for it, Frank Patrick Venable. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY RING!!! I thought you left, Frank, to be honest. I thought after you failed to take the Alpha World Title at 2020 Ways to Die that you had learned that the waters here in APW are plenty deep. You’re a stronger swimmer than I’d originally accounted for. Allow me to erase that mistake right now. I never did congratulate you on becoming a two-time World Champion. Welcome to the club. That, friend, is where your welcome wears out. This ain’t Monday Night Clash. This is Monday Night METAL. And the Action Wrestling World Champ is NOT going to walk in here and score a victory over ME. Even if it’s just a Non-Title Triple Threat Tag Team Match. Nuh-uh. Not on my watch. My training has intensified since aligning with The Architects. I’m adding new skills, new moves to my repertoire on a regular basis. I’m in the best shape of my career and I am ready for anything. When I saw that you and I and Luce were booked to brawl this coming Monday night, I didn’t miss a beat. So what. A champion versus champion versus champion match. Why would I expect any less than that? I got into this game to face the best and win. And that’s just exactly what I’m going to do on our flagship on OUR DAY -- Monday. Another boring empty arena promo would be suicide if it weren’t being done by me. I can stand here and hit you with a wall of well-woven words for as long as I want to because I have actual substance. I believe every word that I say and I know that I can always back up what I say with cold, hard facts. The facts have always been a more solid foundation than a fly-infested pile of shined up bullshit.”
Smith reaches up and unsnaps the championship, pulling it down and resting it again on his right shoulder.
“I am the shining example of how a professional wrestling is to conduct oneself both in and out of the ring. Guess I’ll have to do a bit of both on Metal. Minimal ruleset. Pinfall. Submission… That’s it. Anything else is allowed. So, it’ll be okay when I take FPV and powerbomb him on the sharp edges of the steel ring steps. It’ll be just fine when I take Lucy and suffocate her with a turnbuckle pad like the unwanted mistake she’s always known she is. I have big plans for APW and I’ve already decided that neither Lucy Sixx nor FPV should be allowed to believe that they are going to alter those plans. Same for Odin. Lurk elsewhere.”
He steps down from the apron and stands in a defensive stance in front of the wrestling ring. With wild eyes, he stands in defence of what he loves.
“I’m a con man posing as a wrestler posing as your champ. I’ve never had the skill to hit a moonsault off the top rope, tucking my knees and crushing your nose into your brain with my patella. I won’t leave you Crestfallen. I’ve never had the ability to spin at you and shatter your cheekbone with a spinning back elbow intended to utterly deface you. That would be Unexpected. I can’t find the opportune moment to sneak up behind you and drop you backwards across my knees with a Backstabber aimed at your upper vertebrae. My ineptitude as a true to life wrestler is a Point of Controversy to say the least.
Believe whatever lies you need to tell yourselves to get you through each night this week that leads to your date with the incredible Smith Jones. But, if you bring those lies within you to this ring on Monday Night Metal, you will have ZERO CHANCE of making me look bad.
Your perception of me will never define me! I am what I am regardless of how you feel about it! You have no say over who I am or what I do with my world. You wanna take this from me someday, put yourself into true contendership position and score this win over me. Lucy, get help from Frank. Frank, get help from Luce.
Put me down.
Take me out.
Be Smith Jones.
Be the top guy on the roster week in and week out. Perform at Main Event level on the regular. Shock the crowd every time they think you simply can’t overcome this challenge and OVERCOME THIS CHALLENGE.
Get it, FPV. Get it, Lucy.
GET ME...”
Fade to black.
“...or get out of my damned way.”
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“You really believe any of that crap?”
Smith’s head whips to his reflection in the full length mirror across the room. He darts in the direction of the mirror and covers the ground quickly before coming face to face with himself again.
“Every word.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re not as good as you think you are. You’re just like everyone else. Insecure. Faking it till you make it...”
There is a slight pause.
“Think you’ll make it?”
“I’m already here, Jones.”
He pats the faceplate and walks away from the mirror.
“You really think you’ll ever be the hero, Smith?”
“I am to me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
