Post by Smith Jones on Feb 23, 2020 15:27:22 GMT -5
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Fade up on a shot of a teddy bear resting on a road case backstage at a house show in Worcester, Massachusetts. Smith Jones enters the shot and picks the teddy bear up. Smith is dressed in a red adult onesie.
Jones lifts the stuffed toy very close and studies the details of his wittle face. The most glaring detail is that he is missing one eye. A tangle of loose threads hangs from his eye socket. His active eye is a black button. His little brown nose is embroidered on, coming loose from years of cuddling. His mouth is a disingenuous grin, stitched on without any consideration for teddy’s feelings. Sniff. Sob. Sad.
Smith holds the teddy bear close, hugging him to his chest with a pout. Jones takes a few steps towards the camera and he speaks.
“Home. It’s a place where you want to be able to feel safe and sound. It's where you go to escape the world. It’s where you get to do the things you’ve wanted to do all day while you were stuck out there somewhere doing something you didn’t really wanna do. Home is where you lay your head at night and dream the dreams and suffer the nightmares that send you off into yet another day.”
He begins to walk. The camera operator walks backwards to stay ahead of him. Jones gently strokes the teddy bear's head and neck, cleaving it to his bosom.
“Home is where your family is. Isn't that right, Spartan? Home. Hn. Family. I guess I'm about to start a family, eh? You may or may not have heard about my recent engagement to Lex Collins' niece by marriage, Siobhan McLeod. I finally know what it's like to have someone I care about so very much. But, family hasn't always been a happy word for me. I'll learn. Right? Whether I learn from my darling fiancee, Siobhan, and her sweet family… or from you, Spartan.
Family. That's why you're Irina's watchdog. You get to see your little boy and your little girl more often now, right? That's why you turned your back on fans who supported you. I see this sort of thing all the time.
I've never known the strong love of family in all my life. I've always felt like a satellite, orbiting around society, watching it from the outside in. Studying what makes people tick by meticulously disassembling their psyches one by one; by digging through their brains. Maybe, I…
No.
But, I dunno…
Maybe, I'll learn from… YOUR… family. Eh? They gonna be at ringside at Liberty Or Death? Can I… may I look deep into your children's eyes and learn about their love for you while they watch me dismantle their doting daddy right in front of them? May I, Spartan, watch the muscles in your family's faces twitch and tremble as I breathe warm, fresh terror into their little lives? I don't mean them any harm. This isn't in any way a threat to them.
This is a threat to YOU, big guy.
Because, while a have two lovely homes and a private lair in an undisclosed location, my house and home will also always be the arena. Not just this arena here in Worcester, Mass. I mean each and every arena across the face of the globe. Tonight at this house show, Spartan, I am home. Tomorrow night at Liberty Or Death, I will be home. You are in my space.”
He rounds a corner and walks a short distance before he kisses teddy on the nose and sets him down on the audio table. He then picks up a microphone and walks past Gorilla. The camera now follows from behind as Smith walks through the curtain, still dressed in his bright red adult onesie, with footsies! We now see that there is a butt flap with the likeness of Irina Ivanova on it! The camera continues to follow. As we look over Smith’s shoulder towards ringside, we see that there is a tryout match for two local indy wrestlers going on in the ring. He stops partway down the ramp and watches them intently with a wrinkled brow. He yells out.
“That’s not how you transition into a wristlock! No, no, no! Get some height on that hip toss!! Oh, come on! You call that a headscissors takedown??! You guys are blowing the basics. You guys are killin’ the biz! Stop the match! GET OUT OF THE RING!!!”
Now at ringside, Smitty unzips his onesie from the neck all the way down the right leg. He steps out of the onesie directly onto the first steel step. He pauses there and looks out across the sea of confused faces with a crooked smile. The Alpha World Championship is locked safely around his waist as he poses there on the steel steps, dressed to compete in his trademark all white ring gear. His head slowly swivels (I mean very slowly) as he tries to look into the eyes of each and every member of the 16,000-person crowd in attendance here tonight. He turns all the way around until he is facing the two wrestlers in the ring. His smile has faded to that signature stone scowl we all know him for.
“You still here?”
He chuckles to himself. Smith wipes his feet on the ring apron and then parts the ropes. At this point, one of the wrestlers exits the ring while the other one, the larger of the two, stands his ground dead centre. He speaks on, still addressing Spartan, while looking into the eyes of this indy worker who is just a little smaller than Sparto himself.
“Y’see, big guy, when people come into my home and disrespect the things I love, I… Hehehe… Well, I just don’t take too kindly to such behaviour.”
Smith suddenly spins and connects with his signature Unexpected left elbow to the young worker’s left cheekbone. The big guy staggers a step or two back as Jones removes The World Title and lays it flat in a corner. As Jones turns to face the big guy, Smith is met by a toe kick to the midsection that doubles him. The big guy gets Jones up for a buckle bomb, but Smitty floats over, lands on his feet! He immediately adjusts to connect with the Point of Controversy!!! The PoC connects!!! The big guy is down!!
The smaller of the two wrestlers slides back into the ring and connects with a stiff running dropkick to the chest that lands like a shotgun blast, sending Jones through the ropes and all the way out to the ringside floor! The indy worker runs the far ropes and comes running back with a springboard rolling senton splash to the outside!! But, Smith meets him partway down and counters with a Backstabber to the neck at ringside!!! What a Point of Controversy!!! The crowd is aghast, unsure what to think of his actions. Some of them are booing. Some are chanting his name.
Smith gets up to one knee, breathing heavily. He looks down at the young man he has just laid out at ringside with curious eyes. He studies every movement of agony. He watches the wincing of his face and he notices how hard the guy is trying not to move his freshly fractured neck.
“You are not the gatekeeper around here, Spartan. I AM.
I climbed. You watched me while I climbed my way from failure to triumph. I didn’t align myself with Irina Ivanova for any benefit at all. I simply wanted to do what I knew was right and be the kind of wrestler that backs up my words. Am I the bad guy? What, because I just broke two young wannabes on a house show instead of welcoming them in the wrestling business with open arms? Let me explain something to you. This is NOT a drop-in centre or a library or a club. You don’t just pay your fee and walk right into the bright, bright spotlights.
This is wrestling!”
Still at ringside, Smith reaches into the ring and walks along the apron, rubbing his palm across the canvas. Every eye inside DCU Center in Worcester, Mass, is on their champion.
“This… is a privilege, not a right. As long as I am championing this place, you don’t get to walk around like you deserve to be here unless you DESERVE TO BE HERE. Be assured, despite my brutal tactics, that I am indeed still the hero in this story. Spartan wants to stand up as a wall between us, the roster, and them, management. When I tried to get in touch with Reenie to discuss my… disappointments, I was met by a six-foot-five, two hundred sixty-five-pound monster, snorting disrespect in my face like this gold had no meaning at all.”
He grabs hold of the Alpha World Championship belt and pulls it out to ringside. He walks over to the bottom of the ramp and glares at the entranceway as if he is expecting an attack. He rests The World Title on his shoulder and takes a fighting stance.
“I stand for integrity in Alpha Pro Wrestling. I do and all members of The Architects do. We stand to defend the wrestling game from those who have no idea the damage they are doing to it. I’m not a hired gun. My convictions come from deep within me based on my life experience and my Utopian vision for the future. Some say I’m in it for the money. Man, I’m in it for love, love, love. I love what I do. I love being on the road and in this ring. I love hurting those who think they have what it takes to stand in my way.”
He takes a few steps back, hopping up to sit on the ring apron, still facing the entranceway. He leans back against the bottom rope. Comfy as a couch.
“So, Spartan. After all the good work you did for the North American Championship. After all the good work you did for the Hardcore Title. In light of all the work you’re doing for the boss these days… How does it feel to have chosen Death over Liberty? You sold your dreams for money. You wanted to feel more spotlights on your face. How else could you ever know what it feels like to be as well-known and respected as the incredible Smith Jones?
Selling out was the best option for... someone like you.
How does it feel to know that you are putting food into your kids’ mouths with questionable cash? How do you look yourself in the mirror? What does YOUR reflection think of YOU? Tomorrow night when you are lacing up to fight me for the big gold, think about your children. Where will they be? Are they safe at home? Are they in the front row? Wherever they are, Spartan, don’t let them watch this match. Don’t make them bear witness to what happens to a sell-out like you at the hands of the greatest champion this company has ever seen.”
Just then, the bigger of the two young wrestlers attacks Jones from behind, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him backwards into the ring! The Title hits the canvas. He picks Jones up and drives him down into the mat with a scintillating powerbomb!! Smith is down! The worker rains down a storm of stomps to the chest, arms, and stomach! Over and over and over… Smith stops moving. The young man goes topside. He comes flying off the top rope with a massive moonsault!! But, Jones moves out of the way!!! BOOM!!! The big guy lands flat on his stomach! Jones gets up and hooks him with a wheelbarrow suplex through the ropes to the ringside floor!! The kid lands on the back of his neck with a disturbing THUD!!! Jones falls flat on his back next to the title belt, sucking wind. The handheld camera stands over him as he looks up.
“This is my home. You do not come in here and tell me who to be. You don’t use my arenas to show your kids and all kids around the world how to give in to greed. They are the future of this planet, whether we like it or not. I am leading by example, as always.
The Tantrum is one of my newer signatures. It was created to do damage to Ace Andrews, but he’s been too afraid to sign a contract here and FACE ME. So, heck. You wanna see Smith Jones throw a Tantrum up close and personal, Spartan? I’m in the best shape of my career. Come see about me. Much of my repertoire is centred around decimating and eventually destroying your head and neck, but you already know that I can just as easily hyper-extend your knee or break a few ribs. I’m skilled like that. I’ll bust your nose and take a selfie with you at ringside using your kid’s cell phone. Nightmares build character.
Those same nightmares will help him remember not to be anything like you, Sparto. He’ll learn to be like Smith Jones instead. They both will. To be the kind of superstar who is granted the week off from competition and then books a title match for himself! To be the kind of person we might want to see as the future of this planet. I am the hero! See past the grit. I'm... incredible. I am your Alpha Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion. And I am making the wrestling world a better place, one match at a time.
Be me. Try.
Or sell your soul to someone above you, like dear old dad.”
Fade to black.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”
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We see Smith Jones’ white stretch limo moving down I90 from Worcester to Boston late at night. Smith is starting to dose off when--
“Aren’t you proud of me, Smith?”
Smith’s eyes bolt wide open as he looks at his reflection in the window. Smith lowers his head.
“I hear I really did break that kid’s neck. Irina’s going to--”
“Fuck what Reenie’s gonna do!!! I made a statement out there tonight.”
“How are they ever going to see me as their hero if you keep losing your temper like this???”
“Oh, come off it, Smith! You NEED me to be this way. You’ll lose the title the second I decide I don’t want to help you anymore. Fucking, say THANK YOU!!!”
Smith groans. He closes his eyes.
“LANGUAGE, Jones.”
[ under his breath ] “Pussy.”
Smith rolls the window down all the way and lets the cool wind whip across his face. He winces at the thought of what he did to those two rookies tonight. Smith fights as hard as he can, but despite his best efforts, he simply cannot stop himself from cracking a sinister smile.
