Post by Dante Q on Jan 7, 2013 4:15:33 GMT -6
He paced nervously in the corridors. Alex Brooks was about to walk out through the curtains and face the KA-POW audience. He was about to do something that he wasn't sure he could do. He was about to start the process that would turn him heel. He was to go out and tell the audience how great it was to be there and then The Wicked Witch of Northern Iowa was going to come out and cast a spell, a flash of light and and darkness and he would be gone. Alex Brooks was wearing his a plain white T-shirt and a pair of jeans with his black wrestling boots. The way he was going was going to be boot left on the floor then under his foot. And there it was...
“Flying through the City by Bliss N' Eso. Alex had come to enjoy Aussie music, through his partner is Audacity, Dina Bryce. Alex waited for the right beat to enter the coliseum
And there it was, Alex Brooks burst through the curtains. The crowd knew who he was from his time is Las Vegas and San Diego, and they cheered. Oh they cheered. He slapped fans with everyone as he made his way to the ring. Grandmothers, babies, young women, boys and girls. Everyone. He ran around the ring like a two year old on red cordial. Alex made his way into the ring under the bottom, found a turn-buckle and climbed to let the cheers of the audience soak in. It's amazing, he thought, despite the crowd being drastically smaller than anything he's seen in the Epicenter or even RIMAC Arena – it was louder. Much much louder. Was he more popular? Or was it the small building and the low ceilings that amplified the noise? Given he was about to turn heel, he'll probably never know. Alex Brooks is handed a microphone by the ring announcer as he hops off the turn-buckle.
Alex Brooks: Hello KA-POW!
Cheers. Loud, raucous cheering. He loved it.
Alex Brooks: I am Al-
Female Voice: Shut it. We don't care.
A female voice, loud and angry cuts off Alex Brooks as he goes to speak.
Female Voice: We don't care for your kind around these parts.
She walks out flanked by two, bal, brutish oafs. Her brown hair rests just below her shoulders and she is wearing a black figure hugging, full length dress with silver trim, she also happens to be holding what looks like a want in her left hand.
Alex Brooks: My kind?
Female: You big city folk that you owed something when you come to my town.
This female that interrupted Alex certainly isn't popular with the locals. Her every word is being booed with the same ferocity that they cheer Alex in.
Alex Brooks: Your town?
Female: Oh, you haven't heard? How surprising, big city boy thinks he can walk in and strut about like the king rooster. I'm the Lovely Lady of Northern Iowa.
Instantly the crowd bursts out with “Wicked Witch! Wicked Witch!” chant louder than anything else that has been heard tonight.
Wicked Witch of Northern Iowa: I'll show you, Wicked Witch! Alex Brooks, you will be gone!
The Lovely Lady or Wicked Witch, depending on your point of view raises her wand and strikes it down. The arena is swallowed a flash of brilliant white light and then absorbed by perfect darkness. When the lights comes back Alex Brooks is gone. The KA-POW crowd sees this and starts chanting “WE WANT ALEX! WE WANT ALEX!” If only they knew he was hiding under the ring.
Wicked Witch of Northern Iowa: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Her piercing cackle drowns out the crowd as she disappears from sight. With the crowd still chanting.
Alex Brooks, the Little Engine that Did, is sitting front of the Exodus Pro banner. He is clad is a pair of blue jeans and a black Exodus Pro T-shirt, street clothes with advertising for his employer. His floppy blonde locks have been cut back to neatness. His smile is gap-less, so his obviously wearing his plate.
“Omar Wise – you're a bad man. That's the image you wish to portray. Big, tough, nasty. Will destroy anyone that gets your path. I get all that.”
“A one man demolition crew is what you are. It started with J-Swag last week and you finished the show leaving a definite strong man down on the mat and out for the count. You're dangerous, you're deadly and you're mad.”
“But you're wrong.”
“I'm no hero. I'm a man. I'm a wrestler. I'm Alex Brooks. I step out into that ring, week in and week out to do the best that I can. I go out there to learn a craft that I love, so that the day I retire, the whole world will look back on me the way the basketball fraternity looked on Michael Jordan when he finally hung up his sneakers.”
“I'm not expecting my success to come overnight. But when I'm done it will have been, but I've gone off on a tangent I never intended here, Omar. As I was saying I don't see myself as as hero. How can I be? I have done anything that deserves such adulation. But there is someone who does deserve the adulation. There is someone who does deserve to be called a hero.”
Brooks blinks, slowly and deliberately, to make the action as noticeable as possible.
“You.”
“Yes, Omar despite the Leroy Brown persona you project, despite all your outward hostility to everyone that even shares the same postcode as you. You are a hero.”
“Just like every soldier who has ever shed sweat for this fine country of ours.”
“I can't even begin to imagine what you went through in Afghanistan and in Iraq. I'm sure my brother will be able to tell me his experiences one day. But, from a first hand perspective, I'll never be able to know what you went through over there. I will never know what made you strike a commanding officer. But, you know what I don't really care what made you do what you did to your CO. You're still a hero in my eyes.”
“I tried to be a hero in my home town after the Dark Knight Massacre, but I think I got in the way more than anything. A friend of mine told me, a better way would be to get back in the ring. So that's what I did. Not really a heroic act. Nothing like what you did, Omar. We've all heard the stories of almost superhuman feats performed when under the influence of adrenaline. Mother's lifting cars of their babies and so on and so forth. And then I heard the story of Omar Wise. The story of how you confronted a suicide bomber and head butted him into oblivion.”
“With acts like that – you can't tell me you aren't a hero. And any good deeds I've performed pale in comparison to you, Omar.”
Brooks shakes his head.
“I guess it won't do me any good to ask you not to head butt me will it?”
“You're a real juxtaposition, Omar. The acts of heroism, painted against a backdrop of hate, and anger. I don't know what to make of that. What I do know. Is that when we do our little dance in the RIMAC Arena... I can't let you catch me. I can't let you treat me like a hungry pitbull with a bloody steak. There are plenty of things that I can't let you do if I want to survive.... But I don't intend to give away my secrets, not just yet.”
He finishes that last sentence with a little wry smile.
“Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to treat you like a fool, Omar. That would be remiss of me. I'm certain you'll be looking for way to put me down and keep me down. Just as I will be for you. That's a given. In fact, I'm pretty certain you'll want to chase me to catch me. Hurt me. Break me. That's the stuff that excites you, isn't Omar? Well, let me give you a piece of advise to my own detriment. Don't chase me... If you do... I will put you down same way Ali put Foreman down and I don't think you have the personality to sell the Omar Wise Grill.”
“Stand your ground – eventually I've got to come close. Eventually I've got to strike. Eventually, I've got to put you down. That's when you should make your move. Sit. Wait. Pounce. That would be the smarter play for you Omar. Or maybe that is what I want you do.”
A grin washes across the young face of Alex Brooks as he continues to talk.
“I'm sure we'll find out when we step into the ring on January Thirteen whether I've made a mistake or not. Right now, I don't think I have. It's pretty obvious you're going to send me through the canvas if I give you the chance. I'm not stupid. I know that's how it goes.”
“That's how it always goes when I get in the ring. I haven't got the strength or any of the physical skills you have. But, I do have heart, and while you may be right when you say that heart isn't going to help me get by when I've got broken bones, and destroyed tendons. It will keep me coming until you take it that far. There is something else too – I learn. I learn every time I step into the ring. With every opponent. I adapt on the run. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But you have to willing to change up with me if you want to defeat me. So far, Omar, you haven't shown an ability to adapt. That might sound harsh, but it rings true.”
“And that... That will be your downfall.”
Alex Brooks stands up.
“Omar – come victory or defeat – I'm looking forward to our battle, our test of wits, will and styles. You might be mean. You might be full of anger, but there is something I like about you, Omar. And it's you are true, Just Omar Wise, straight up. No fancy gimmickry, no hordes telling you how much better you and than me. Just you, Omar Wise, wanting to break my face in. Now, Omar, to borrow your own turn of phrase before I sign off.”
“Good luck, dead man.”
Alex nods his head, almost in a sign of respect for his opponent, and departs, leaving the Exodus Pro Banner dominating everything.
Black.
“Flying through the City by Bliss N' Eso. Alex had come to enjoy Aussie music, through his partner is Audacity, Dina Bryce. Alex waited for the right beat to enter the coliseum
All engines go you, I’m ready for blast off
We've been in the building, They're looking for car spots
I got the pedal to the metal in a monster truck
A full tank and a constant rush.
We've been in the building, They're looking for car spots
I got the pedal to the metal in a monster truck
A full tank and a constant rush.
And there it was, Alex Brooks burst through the curtains. The crowd knew who he was from his time is Las Vegas and San Diego, and they cheered. Oh they cheered. He slapped fans with everyone as he made his way to the ring. Grandmothers, babies, young women, boys and girls. Everyone. He ran around the ring like a two year old on red cordial. Alex made his way into the ring under the bottom, found a turn-buckle and climbed to let the cheers of the audience soak in. It's amazing, he thought, despite the crowd being drastically smaller than anything he's seen in the Epicenter or even RIMAC Arena – it was louder. Much much louder. Was he more popular? Or was it the small building and the low ceilings that amplified the noise? Given he was about to turn heel, he'll probably never know. Alex Brooks is handed a microphone by the ring announcer as he hops off the turn-buckle.
Alex Brooks: Hello KA-POW!
Cheers. Loud, raucous cheering. He loved it.
Alex Brooks: I am Al-
Female Voice: Shut it. We don't care.
A female voice, loud and angry cuts off Alex Brooks as he goes to speak.
Female Voice: We don't care for your kind around these parts.
She walks out flanked by two, bal, brutish oafs. Her brown hair rests just below her shoulders and she is wearing a black figure hugging, full length dress with silver trim, she also happens to be holding what looks like a want in her left hand.
Alex Brooks: My kind?
Female: You big city folk that you owed something when you come to my town.
This female that interrupted Alex certainly isn't popular with the locals. Her every word is being booed with the same ferocity that they cheer Alex in.
Alex Brooks: Your town?
Female: Oh, you haven't heard? How surprising, big city boy thinks he can walk in and strut about like the king rooster. I'm the Lovely Lady of Northern Iowa.
Instantly the crowd bursts out with “Wicked Witch! Wicked Witch!” chant louder than anything else that has been heard tonight.
Wicked Witch of Northern Iowa: I'll show you, Wicked Witch! Alex Brooks, you will be gone!
The Lovely Lady or Wicked Witch, depending on your point of view raises her wand and strikes it down. The arena is swallowed a flash of brilliant white light and then absorbed by perfect darkness. When the lights comes back Alex Brooks is gone. The KA-POW crowd sees this and starts chanting “WE WANT ALEX! WE WANT ALEX!” If only they knew he was hiding under the ring.
Wicked Witch of Northern Iowa: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Her piercing cackle drowns out the crowd as she disappears from sight. With the crowd still chanting.
~~~
Alex Brooks, the Little Engine that Did, is sitting front of the Exodus Pro banner. He is clad is a pair of blue jeans and a black Exodus Pro T-shirt, street clothes with advertising for his employer. His floppy blonde locks have been cut back to neatness. His smile is gap-less, so his obviously wearing his plate.
“Omar Wise – you're a bad man. That's the image you wish to portray. Big, tough, nasty. Will destroy anyone that gets your path. I get all that.”
“A one man demolition crew is what you are. It started with J-Swag last week and you finished the show leaving a definite strong man down on the mat and out for the count. You're dangerous, you're deadly and you're mad.”
“But you're wrong.”
“I'm no hero. I'm a man. I'm a wrestler. I'm Alex Brooks. I step out into that ring, week in and week out to do the best that I can. I go out there to learn a craft that I love, so that the day I retire, the whole world will look back on me the way the basketball fraternity looked on Michael Jordan when he finally hung up his sneakers.”
“I'm not expecting my success to come overnight. But when I'm done it will have been, but I've gone off on a tangent I never intended here, Omar. As I was saying I don't see myself as as hero. How can I be? I have done anything that deserves such adulation. But there is someone who does deserve the adulation. There is someone who does deserve to be called a hero.”
Brooks blinks, slowly and deliberately, to make the action as noticeable as possible.
“You.”
“Yes, Omar despite the Leroy Brown persona you project, despite all your outward hostility to everyone that even shares the same postcode as you. You are a hero.”
“Just like every soldier who has ever shed sweat for this fine country of ours.”
“I can't even begin to imagine what you went through in Afghanistan and in Iraq. I'm sure my brother will be able to tell me his experiences one day. But, from a first hand perspective, I'll never be able to know what you went through over there. I will never know what made you strike a commanding officer. But, you know what I don't really care what made you do what you did to your CO. You're still a hero in my eyes.”
“I tried to be a hero in my home town after the Dark Knight Massacre, but I think I got in the way more than anything. A friend of mine told me, a better way would be to get back in the ring. So that's what I did. Not really a heroic act. Nothing like what you did, Omar. We've all heard the stories of almost superhuman feats performed when under the influence of adrenaline. Mother's lifting cars of their babies and so on and so forth. And then I heard the story of Omar Wise. The story of how you confronted a suicide bomber and head butted him into oblivion.”
“With acts like that – you can't tell me you aren't a hero. And any good deeds I've performed pale in comparison to you, Omar.”
Brooks shakes his head.
“I guess it won't do me any good to ask you not to head butt me will it?”
“You're a real juxtaposition, Omar. The acts of heroism, painted against a backdrop of hate, and anger. I don't know what to make of that. What I do know. Is that when we do our little dance in the RIMAC Arena... I can't let you catch me. I can't let you treat me like a hungry pitbull with a bloody steak. There are plenty of things that I can't let you do if I want to survive.... But I don't intend to give away my secrets, not just yet.”
He finishes that last sentence with a little wry smile.
“Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to treat you like a fool, Omar. That would be remiss of me. I'm certain you'll be looking for way to put me down and keep me down. Just as I will be for you. That's a given. In fact, I'm pretty certain you'll want to chase me to catch me. Hurt me. Break me. That's the stuff that excites you, isn't Omar? Well, let me give you a piece of advise to my own detriment. Don't chase me... If you do... I will put you down same way Ali put Foreman down and I don't think you have the personality to sell the Omar Wise Grill.”
“Stand your ground – eventually I've got to come close. Eventually I've got to strike. Eventually, I've got to put you down. That's when you should make your move. Sit. Wait. Pounce. That would be the smarter play for you Omar. Or maybe that is what I want you do.”
A grin washes across the young face of Alex Brooks as he continues to talk.
“I'm sure we'll find out when we step into the ring on January Thirteen whether I've made a mistake or not. Right now, I don't think I have. It's pretty obvious you're going to send me through the canvas if I give you the chance. I'm not stupid. I know that's how it goes.”
“That's how it always goes when I get in the ring. I haven't got the strength or any of the physical skills you have. But, I do have heart, and while you may be right when you say that heart isn't going to help me get by when I've got broken bones, and destroyed tendons. It will keep me coming until you take it that far. There is something else too – I learn. I learn every time I step into the ring. With every opponent. I adapt on the run. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But you have to willing to change up with me if you want to defeat me. So far, Omar, you haven't shown an ability to adapt. That might sound harsh, but it rings true.”
“And that... That will be your downfall.”
Alex Brooks stands up.
“Omar – come victory or defeat – I'm looking forward to our battle, our test of wits, will and styles. You might be mean. You might be full of anger, but there is something I like about you, Omar. And it's you are true, Just Omar Wise, straight up. No fancy gimmickry, no hordes telling you how much better you and than me. Just you, Omar Wise, wanting to break my face in. Now, Omar, to borrow your own turn of phrase before I sign off.”
“Good luck, dead man.”
Alex nods his head, almost in a sign of respect for his opponent, and departs, leaving the Exodus Pro Banner dominating everything.
Black.