Post by Smith Jones on Apr 17, 2020 11:00:54 GMT -5
~ ~ ~
~ ON CAMERA ~
“Watch me!”
“Of course, love.”
“Suit & Tie” by Justin Timberlake featuring Jay-Z begins to play. Good tune. Feel free to take a pause here and ride that groove awhile.
~ PAUSE ~
Fade up on a shot of an expensive Breitling Superocean Héritage II resting on a table. Smith Jones’ fiancée Siobhan McLeod picks it up and hands it to him. He uses it not only as a timepiece but as the perfect accent to his sharp black suit and tie.
“How do I look?”
“Classic.”
Smith flashes a smile at himself in the mirror. Siobhan and Smith are in an their elegant living room inside their home in Las Vegas, Nevada. Siobhan half smiles at Jones as she turns to leave the room.
“Sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”
She stops and turns to look at Smith. She is stunning.
“We should have been married almost two ago. I’m just daydreaming about--”
She cuts herself off as she glances at one of the documentary crew members.
“We should talk about this later.”
Smith steps over to Siobhan and takes both of her hands, looking deep into her eyes.
“You’ve come into my life and gotten close to me in a way that no other person in my entire life has ever done. You are my perfect angel and I will always love you. This dark cloud that hangs over the world these days is all encompassing. I don’t want us to look back on our wedding day as being surrounded by sadness. When the world returns to normal, our nuptials will be a celebration of happiness and joy under the golden rays of our glorious sun! And when I look into your eyes on that day, love, and when I hold your hands in mine just like this, you will finally become Missus Smith Jones.”
Siobhan blushes and smiles at the sound of it.
“Siobhan Jones.”
She smiles even bigger. Smith’s attention is caught momentarily by something off camera. He looks away for a beat before returning to her gorgeous green eyes.
“Sweetheart. I kinda gotta--”
“Go.”
They kiss sweetly before Siobhan exits and Smith walks quickly towards the interview set. He stands in front of a dark textured background and looks into camera. The documentarian is not amused.
“We’re late for the--”
“I know! People can wait for ME!”
The room falls silent as crewmembers put on Smith’s lapel mic and help him put in his earpiece. The makeup artist does a few final touches to Jones. A voice sparks to life inside Smith’s earpiece. There is urgency in the woman’s voice, but she is trying to mask it.
“Mister Jones! It’s good to finally see you. Can you hear me? Mister Jo--”
“Loud and clear, Liza.”
“The lines are packed with fans who want to talk to you!”
“Can’t wait.”
Smith’s throat is already beginning to constrict as he chokes the words out.
“Fan interaction is… what I am doing today. Let’s play.”
Cut to a shot of Liza Williamson sitting at an announce desk next to a large monitor with an image of Smith Jones on it. She flashes a welcoming smile and talks to her live online audience.
“Joining me now from his home in Vegas, your former two-time Alpha World Champion… this is “Classic” Smith Jones!!! Welcome, Mister Jones!”
“A pleasure, I’m sure.”
“Smith, the fans have been waiting for their chance to talk to you about, well, anything and everything under the sun! Are you ready?”
Smith sighs.
“Great! Our first question is from @smittyfanaccount229.”
We now see side by side images of Smith Jones and a young dark-haired girl in her bedroom with posters of Smith Jones all over the wall behind her. She is wearing a bright pink tee that reads “Sooooooo Classic” on the front of it in bright orange bubble letters. She chews gum loudly as she asks her question.
“SMITTIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I’ve been a lifelong fan since I was knee high to a grasshopper! You were the best champion ever!!! But… why don’t you rematch for the belt? Are you scared of Damon?”
Smith chuckles lightly to himself as though he’s just remembered an old joke. He looks off to one side before he looks again to the camera lens.
“Damon Warrens is my king. It’s not fear you note in my affect. It’s respect. I have enough respect for Damon Warrens as our Alpha World Champion to simply stand back and watch to see what greatness exudes from him during his esteemed World Title reign. They say it’s not the title that makes the champion; it’s the champion that makes the title. True. Sure. But, aren’t there times in pro wrestling where the champion needs to grow into his new groove? I’m not saying this is that. I’m just saying I hope to see even higher levels of greatness from Damon Warrens in the future than we've seen thus far. Everyone’s watching. Let’s stand back and see what he does when he has all of the powah and all of the glorah draped ova his shouldah. I cannot wait to see him try to rise above and overshadow what I’ve already done here in Alpha Pro. I kneel at the feet of king Damon.”
He leans slightly forward.
“And so should you!”
He laughs out loud. The image next to Jones switches to an adult male wearing a purple Mike “The Situation” Matthews T-shirt and thick, black glasses.
“You seem to have taken a liking to Sitch. And he speaks highly of you as well. Are you setting him up to stab him in the back, or do you think he’ll ever actually be part of The Architects??”
Jones is caught off guard by this question. He takes a step back from the camera as he searches his mind for a response.
“Part of The Architects… Y’know @sitchysitchsitchfan, this Monday Night Metal, Lex and I will be teaming up with The Situation to face L Verez, Jordi Trash, and Soul Reaver. Could this be an audition of sorts for Mike Matthews? Could this honourary member actually officially join The Architects???”
A smile crawls slowly across Smitty’s lips.
“In my book, that could very well happen... someday. Sitch, if you can manage to help The Architects get the win this week, this would go a long way towards convincing me that there could possibly be room for The Situation within our official ranks. I mean, I can’t speak for the boys, but… Next question. This is more fun than anticipated!”
“Okay, Mister Jones. Here’s @jellofartzallday.”
We see a teenage boy in his basement wearing all black with black eyeliner and long, hot pink hair.
“Last week, you got completely destroyed by Soul Reaver. He almost beat you two moves into the match! He ripped the turnbuckle pad wide open with his bare hand and crashed you into it!! He powerbombed you to kingdom come!!! How are you going to avoid having the exact same thing happen to you again this Monday night?”
Smith’s lip begins to quiver. He bites it hard on the inside and stiffens his muscles.
“I… still have… pain… everywhere. He utterly decimated me. I don’t know how I’m even going to walk that aisle on Metal this Monday. Just... ouch! My strategy for surviving the giant this week is to not touch him at all!!! It’s simple. In my plan, Lex gets L Verez, I get Jordi Trash, and Sitch gets Reaver! That way, we take ‘em on by size. We match speed. We meet power with power. And, most importantly, I won’t have any physical contact with that monstrous menace!! Seriously, ouch.
Monday night is going to be just another chance for me to show you why I call myself “Classic”! And hey, it’ll be the return of my new finisher The Classic when I pick Jordi Trash up and dump him on his head with a textbook old school piledriver! Jordi, you have no idea the trouble that you are in when this particular Smith Jones has you in my sights. Your abuse of the cameraman in your promo last week was appalling! Not many people know this, but before I became a wrestler, I was a cameraman! I know what it’s like to be put into situations that you’re not sure of, but having to just go with it in order to get the shot. Did you give him something worthwhile to show to the world, Jordi? In between all of those F-bombs, did you actually say anything that would convince anyone out there in the APW fanbase to believe that you are going to have a top level, Hall of Fame worthy career here in Alpha Pro Wrestling??
Do you want to be good, Jordi, or do you want to be great? Are you a joke in this locker room with your comically horrendous potty mouth, or are you a true king like our king Damon Warrens? I gotta tell you, I watched your match more than once and I can’t for the life of me figure out how you managed to turn your brash, unorthodox methods into a win. It obviously works for you, but I don’t see why what you do would work for anyone. I am going to dissect you piece by piece and find out what makes you tick.
I’m one of those pussies who wears a watch. It’s very expensive and it tells me every day, all day that it is still MY TIME. You talk about teaching lessons? Eh, Jordi? Have you heard the new chants from the crowd for “Classic” Smith Jones these days? They’re not saying Clas-sic, clas-sic, clas-sic. Listen more carefully next time! They’re saying Sick class! Sick class! Sick class! Because they know that every time I step foot inside the squared circle, they will learn something!!!”
“Okay, next on the line we have--”
“L Verez. We’re gonna show you that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize that it really is too late. It’s that moment when Lex Collins takes you down with the Systematic Breakdown 2.0 or that moment when Sitch hits Reaver with the Situation Bomb or that moment when I hit The Trash King with The Classic! Or all three at once!!! Those are the types of moments from which you never recover. You will not be able to wear us down because we The Architects and the Architectural Apprentice are ALL NIGHT BANGERS.”
Deadpan.
“Woop. Woop.”
Smith gets more and more animated, agitated as he speaks on.
“I’m heading to Gods of Wrestling to face that insolent brat Meghan Kelser inside an enclosed steel cage!!! We are going to steal the show when I finally put an end to her sophomoric games. Welcome to the first time you ever saw “Classic” Smith Jones cut the head off of Medusa and feast on snakeskin stew. I will ascend the mount and drag lightning down from the sky to smite my foes where they stand. You want to be a God of Wrestling, Kelser? You have to be able to do the impossible over and over again without missing a beat. You have to look like a hero even in defeat as the masses raise their voices to urge you to find your feet and try again. The World should already be preparing itself for the third coming of Smith Jones. Watch and cheer. Chant my name. Chant my nickname. Tell everyone you know that I am coming. Tell them to watch and learn. Sick class, Smitty. Sick class. Teach me more. Monday is coming...”
Fade to black.
“...don’t be tardy.”
