Back To The Drawing Board
Jul 11, 2019 16:42:36 GMT -5
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BonnieBlue, Dani Applegate, and 1 more like this
Post by Jaice Wilds on Jul 11, 2019 16:42:36 GMT -5
Indefinite Suspension.
These words hit me like a brick. I just stood there, confused, as AW security looked at me entirely stonefaced. I look down at the unopened envelope, Camila's voice dulled to a whisper in my head.
Camila Gonzalez:
Jaice. I know it's a lot to take in, but for now I need you to leave the premises. I'm sorry.
I knew my actions would have consequences. I knew opening the floor to public judgement would get me some heat. But this? Being turned away from my place of work before I could even make the front door? The emotions bubbled up inside me… And it was not a large container.
Camila Gonzalez:
Jaice, please. This is a direct order fro…
Jaice Wilds:
For months, Corey sends his hired guns to fuck with me. He costs me an opportunity to face off against whoever for the only AW Title I give a damn about, and then he manipulates me into a match where I can't even get a real shot at airing my frustrations. I was GOING to challenge him at Carnage…
Camila holds up a hand. She shakes her head, standing firm.
Camila Gonzalez:
Enough, Jaice. Either you leave willingly, or I'll have you escorted from the premises in cuffs.
Jaice looks at her with perturbed shock. He shakes his head, crumbling the envelope and tossing it at security.
Jaice Wilds:
I get it. Management would prefer to protect their part timer than to work with someone who busts his ass for this company week in and week out. Fine, then. My lawyers will be in contact with yours. And don't worry; I'll be more than happy to collect my paychecks until the injunctions wear out… by the time my new contract does.
Wilds flips Camila the bird as he turns, heading back to his Harley. She breathes a sigh of relief as she heads back into the arena, Jaice riding off in disgust.
------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Road Dawg and Spartan, intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
When my friend, my partner, my brother Damian Kaine told me he had a new spot, I was happy for him. He was given a prominent place, a nice salary, a chance to oversee the unwashed masses… but at the time, I was happy with my contract at Action. Months down the road, however, some backstage politicking managed to sour my relationship with management; and it wasn't long before I decided to take up Kaine's offer. Granted, I didn't want him- or anyone else, for that matter- to know I was popping in just yet. You have to save the big guns until they're absolutely necessary. Which made it almost ridiculously coincidental when the date I had chosen to reveal myself turned out to be the same night Alpha Pro Management decided to debut the Hardcore Championship.
I wasn't overly worried about the title itself, mind you. It's like I've said from day one: Jaice Wilds is about the competition. So while it's disappointing that I didn't take home the strap, I'm not overly upset. After all, the entire roster saw me as the threat I am and took turns getting their shots in. So really, my name made enough impact to turn everyone's heads.
And as disappointed as I am that the Not-Father decided to stay at home and stare at his micro-penis, I am that much more enthused about the level of competition last week's bout brought out of everyone.
Take the boi Spartan, for example. Sure, he's a big dude. Strong, silent type. Now, nobody could really tell him apart from Jobber Dave two weeks ago. But last week? That man put up a fight worthy of the main event. I'm talking future World Title contender right there. He's got the power, he's got the awareness, he's got the guts. The only thing this kid really lacks is the experience. And that's not a shot, Spartan; really, it isn't. Because frankly, everyone has to start somewhere. On the last Metal, you showed the world that you weren't some lucky kid who signed a contract, but a talented rookie who, given the chance, can truly go the distance. And that's not me licking your nuts, man; I am always one to give credit where credit is due and I'm telling you: by this time next year, you will be competing for the World Title.
But this week, you're competing against me. A seasoned vet with a little over a decade of experience under his belt. A man who has conquered the opposition no matter what that entails. A man who has cornered the market on mid-tier titles and rocked the main event scene. An unstoppable force of nature who will stop at nothing to prove simply that he can still hang with the best of the absolute best in that squared circle, and Spartan... you're not quite there yet. You have all the building blocks, certainly; but it takes time and experience to put them together- neither of which you will have enough of in only a week's time. I have all the makings of a Main Event staple, and I bring that energy into every bout. You may tower over me, Spartan, but you pale in comparison when it comes to pure, unadulterated fury inside the squared circle. I have toppled giants and tamed monsters before; you will be no different. However, I truly hope that I see that same spark you brought last week, as it would be an honor to shape and mould you as a talent shooting for the top. It will be quite a show.
As far as Road Dawg is concerned; you failed to impress. I mean, look in the mirror sometime. You're yet another Hell's Angel knockoff with little personality and less skills. You use your size to intimidate others and go straight to a flurry of cheap shots before they can determine what little threat you really are. You stand about a half a foot over me, Dawg, but it will be me looking down on you when the final bell sounds. Please, feel free to take every predictable big man swing in the book. For those new to the legend of Wilds, I don't often know my own plan of attack until I'm in the heat of battle. No amount of preparation is going to save you from the untamed animalistic fury of the Final General. No amount of size or power is going to protect you from my innovative aerial onslaught and imminent defeat.
At the end of the night, there will be a hand of respect given to Spartan and a crushing defeat dealt to the Road Dawg.
Ladies and gentlemen, the excitement has arrived, all the barriers have been obliterated and Alpha Pro Wrestling…
Has just…
Gotten…
XTREME.
-------------------------
Kaine looks over the paperwork, furrowing his brow. He looks up, scratching his chin.
Damian Kaine:
Seriously, Jaice. We have the funds. We can pay you… a LOT more than that. Hell, your merch sales alone…
Wilds holds a hand up, grinning. He looks across the desk from his friend, taking a second.
Jaice Wilds:
My lawyers are gonna have Tort's legal team in a jam for at LEAST nine months. And the contract I signed with them LITERALLY days before Evo 2… let's just say, even without the Order lien, I'm gonna be set for a WHILE. Far as I'm concerned, I'm more than happy just being in the ring.
Kaine holds up the contract.
Damian Kaine:
At least ask me for a title opportunity. Any title you want, man. Next week, Showdown, next year… I just feel like, after how much Dante and Irina pushed me to sign you officially, I'm practically ripping you off. You gotta want something.
Jaice Wilds:
I want the same thing I've always wanted, Dame. The only thing that matters to me in this business. All I need you to give me is…
Damian Kaine:
Competition. Yeah. Look… for the sake of my fellow management not worrying about losing you to feeling underappreciated, at LEAST let me bump your merch percentage. I mean, give me SOMETHING to show the Board.
Jaice chuckles, shaking his head. He reaches over, grabbing a pen and scribbles something on the contract. Damian looks it over, shrugs, and nods.
Damian Kaine:
Direct line to management? Well, you have my number. And I'm sure I can have Dante and Ivanova throw you in their contacts. If open lines means catching concerns before they get too out of hand, that's what we'll do.
Wilds and Kaine sign the contract, shaking hands when they've finished. As Wilds drops the pen, Kaine's daughter stumbles into the room. As Kaine and Wilds release the handshake, Jaice turns and picks her up.
Jaice Wilds:
There's my favorite niece!! Did you come to see Uncle Jaice? Did ya? You adorable little lady…
Damian Kaine:
I get why she likes Alli more than me… but you're around once or twice a month and she loves you more than me. What the hell?
The two share a chuckle as Alli runs into the room, Damian stopping her before she apologizes for their daughter's accidental intrusion. The three of them stand around talking about the baby, Dame and Alli's relationship, and a little about a certain Queen of Wrestling…
These words hit me like a brick. I just stood there, confused, as AW security looked at me entirely stonefaced. I look down at the unopened envelope, Camila's voice dulled to a whisper in my head.
Camila Gonzalez:
Jaice. I know it's a lot to take in, but for now I need you to leave the premises. I'm sorry.
I knew my actions would have consequences. I knew opening the floor to public judgement would get me some heat. But this? Being turned away from my place of work before I could even make the front door? The emotions bubbled up inside me… And it was not a large container.
Camila Gonzalez:
Jaice, please. This is a direct order fro…
Jaice Wilds:
For months, Corey sends his hired guns to fuck with me. He costs me an opportunity to face off against whoever for the only AW Title I give a damn about, and then he manipulates me into a match where I can't even get a real shot at airing my frustrations. I was GOING to challenge him at Carnage…
Camila holds up a hand. She shakes her head, standing firm.
Camila Gonzalez:
Enough, Jaice. Either you leave willingly, or I'll have you escorted from the premises in cuffs.
Jaice looks at her with perturbed shock. He shakes his head, crumbling the envelope and tossing it at security.
Jaice Wilds:
I get it. Management would prefer to protect their part timer than to work with someone who busts his ass for this company week in and week out. Fine, then. My lawyers will be in contact with yours. And don't worry; I'll be more than happy to collect my paychecks until the injunctions wear out… by the time my new contract does.
Wilds flips Camila the bird as he turns, heading back to his Harley. She breathes a sigh of relief as she heads back into the arena, Jaice riding off in disgust.
------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Road Dawg and Spartan, intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
When my friend, my partner, my brother Damian Kaine told me he had a new spot, I was happy for him. He was given a prominent place, a nice salary, a chance to oversee the unwashed masses… but at the time, I was happy with my contract at Action. Months down the road, however, some backstage politicking managed to sour my relationship with management; and it wasn't long before I decided to take up Kaine's offer. Granted, I didn't want him- or anyone else, for that matter- to know I was popping in just yet. You have to save the big guns until they're absolutely necessary. Which made it almost ridiculously coincidental when the date I had chosen to reveal myself turned out to be the same night Alpha Pro Management decided to debut the Hardcore Championship.
I wasn't overly worried about the title itself, mind you. It's like I've said from day one: Jaice Wilds is about the competition. So while it's disappointing that I didn't take home the strap, I'm not overly upset. After all, the entire roster saw me as the threat I am and took turns getting their shots in. So really, my name made enough impact to turn everyone's heads.
And as disappointed as I am that the Not-Father decided to stay at home and stare at his micro-penis, I am that much more enthused about the level of competition last week's bout brought out of everyone.
Take the boi Spartan, for example. Sure, he's a big dude. Strong, silent type. Now, nobody could really tell him apart from Jobber Dave two weeks ago. But last week? That man put up a fight worthy of the main event. I'm talking future World Title contender right there. He's got the power, he's got the awareness, he's got the guts. The only thing this kid really lacks is the experience. And that's not a shot, Spartan; really, it isn't. Because frankly, everyone has to start somewhere. On the last Metal, you showed the world that you weren't some lucky kid who signed a contract, but a talented rookie who, given the chance, can truly go the distance. And that's not me licking your nuts, man; I am always one to give credit where credit is due and I'm telling you: by this time next year, you will be competing for the World Title.
But this week, you're competing against me. A seasoned vet with a little over a decade of experience under his belt. A man who has conquered the opposition no matter what that entails. A man who has cornered the market on mid-tier titles and rocked the main event scene. An unstoppable force of nature who will stop at nothing to prove simply that he can still hang with the best of the absolute best in that squared circle, and Spartan... you're not quite there yet. You have all the building blocks, certainly; but it takes time and experience to put them together- neither of which you will have enough of in only a week's time. I have all the makings of a Main Event staple, and I bring that energy into every bout. You may tower over me, Spartan, but you pale in comparison when it comes to pure, unadulterated fury inside the squared circle. I have toppled giants and tamed monsters before; you will be no different. However, I truly hope that I see that same spark you brought last week, as it would be an honor to shape and mould you as a talent shooting for the top. It will be quite a show.
As far as Road Dawg is concerned; you failed to impress. I mean, look in the mirror sometime. You're yet another Hell's Angel knockoff with little personality and less skills. You use your size to intimidate others and go straight to a flurry of cheap shots before they can determine what little threat you really are. You stand about a half a foot over me, Dawg, but it will be me looking down on you when the final bell sounds. Please, feel free to take every predictable big man swing in the book. For those new to the legend of Wilds, I don't often know my own plan of attack until I'm in the heat of battle. No amount of preparation is going to save you from the untamed animalistic fury of the Final General. No amount of size or power is going to protect you from my innovative aerial onslaught and imminent defeat.
At the end of the night, there will be a hand of respect given to Spartan and a crushing defeat dealt to the Road Dawg.
Ladies and gentlemen, the excitement has arrived, all the barriers have been obliterated and Alpha Pro Wrestling…
Has just…
Gotten…
XTREME.
-------------------------
Kaine looks over the paperwork, furrowing his brow. He looks up, scratching his chin.
Damian Kaine:
Seriously, Jaice. We have the funds. We can pay you… a LOT more than that. Hell, your merch sales alone…
Wilds holds a hand up, grinning. He looks across the desk from his friend, taking a second.
Jaice Wilds:
My lawyers are gonna have Tort's legal team in a jam for at LEAST nine months. And the contract I signed with them LITERALLY days before Evo 2… let's just say, even without the Order lien, I'm gonna be set for a WHILE. Far as I'm concerned, I'm more than happy just being in the ring.
Kaine holds up the contract.
Damian Kaine:
At least ask me for a title opportunity. Any title you want, man. Next week, Showdown, next year… I just feel like, after how much Dante and Irina pushed me to sign you officially, I'm practically ripping you off. You gotta want something.
Jaice Wilds:
I want the same thing I've always wanted, Dame. The only thing that matters to me in this business. All I need you to give me is…
Damian Kaine:
Competition. Yeah. Look… for the sake of my fellow management not worrying about losing you to feeling underappreciated, at LEAST let me bump your merch percentage. I mean, give me SOMETHING to show the Board.
Jaice chuckles, shaking his head. He reaches over, grabbing a pen and scribbles something on the contract. Damian looks it over, shrugs, and nods.
Damian Kaine:
Direct line to management? Well, you have my number. And I'm sure I can have Dante and Ivanova throw you in their contacts. If open lines means catching concerns before they get too out of hand, that's what we'll do.
Wilds and Kaine sign the contract, shaking hands when they've finished. As Wilds drops the pen, Kaine's daughter stumbles into the room. As Kaine and Wilds release the handshake, Jaice turns and picks her up.
Jaice Wilds:
There's my favorite niece!! Did you come to see Uncle Jaice? Did ya? You adorable little lady…
Damian Kaine:
I get why she likes Alli more than me… but you're around once or twice a month and she loves you more than me. What the hell?
The two share a chuckle as Alli runs into the room, Damian stopping her before she apologizes for their daughter's accidental intrusion. The three of them stand around talking about the baby, Dame and Alli's relationship, and a little about a certain Queen of Wrestling…
