Post by Dante Q on Jan 25, 2013 8:28:38 GMT -6
Alex Brooks loved it when he travelled to Mexico, sure the locker rooms weren't as comfortable and sometimes he struggled with the food. But he loved the atmosphere, he loved the stories, he loved the way the crowd treated everyone that competed like they were something special. Mexico was definitely a different place to the United States, and that's why he loved it.
Alex Brooks is currently in Cancun. He is clad in is purple full length tights, that had a bright yellow python curled around each leg. He doesn't wear a shirt in Mexico, because even though he was small it didn't matter, no one was going to ridicule him for his physique, or lack thereof. The important thing in Mexico was his mask.
In Mexico, Alex Brooks was not Alex Brooks - he was Kid Venom.
He held the purple mask in his hand and looked it over. He always felt a sense of awe when he slipped the mask over his head. He imagined it was the same way Bruce Wayne when he became Batman, or Clark Kent when he became Superman.
For Alex, tonight was an important night in Mexico. Tonight, was the night he would challenge the biggest and baddest of them all, El Bestia Negro to a cage match. This was being done to defend the honour of his Mexican Mentor, El Stingray who The Black Beast had destroyed.
Alex Brooks, no, Kid Venom had to defend his honour. And tonight, he would. If El Bestia Negro was man enough to accept his challenge.
He expected he would be.
Alex finally slipped to the mask over his head, and tied it in the back. He completed his transformation into Kid Venom.
He was ready.
There is no Exodus Pro Banner. There is only Alex Brooks. The floor is dusty, the walls behind look like they have worn decades of grime, and worn it with pride. Alex is shirtless, and is wearing a pair of purple wrestling tights. There is something curled up and around the leg, but the position of his body makes it impossible to tell what it is. He is sweaty, no workout sweat, or physical effort sweat, but type of sweat you see when your body is engulfed by suffocating humidity.
“I was expecting the Big Bad Brooks. The one man wrecking crew, that stops only to take breath before destroying anything else that stands in his path.”
“But, so far I've got...”
“Nothing.”
“I find that disappointing.... real disappointing.”
“I compete to test my mettle against the best of the best, sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. But, I'm always there. I always turn to put my best against my opponent's best, because no matter what I can learn something my opponent.”
“That's why I was looking forward to facing you, Justin.”
“The key word there is was. I was looking forward to facing you, because you are one of the most talented men ever to step foot inside a wrestling ring. But, not only are you talented you are athletically gifted. You move like a ballerina and you hit like a semi trailer without brakes. I could learn a lot from you, but...”
“Right now, you don't seem to care. You don't seem to think that competing in this Winter Road tournament is important at all. You pushed a fired up and deadly Omar Wise to his absolute limit. You were the Big Bad. The immovable object.”
“Right now... I don't know what you are. I'm almost hoping that you are laying in wait, to strike me down with a surprise attack.”
Brooks tilts his head and rubs the back of his neck.
“Though, something tells me you are more likely sitting on your couch like Al Bundy, stuffing your face with doughnuts than anything else.”
“That's unfortunate.”
“You know, Justin, the more I think about it, the more I think that your “plane troubles” getting to RIMAC Arena for episode were nothing more than an excuse so you didn't have to get off the the aforementioned couch. So you could sit there scratching yourself, that's not unfortunate – that's just plain sad.”
“I'm sorry, Justin, I didn't set out to sound so mean and uncaring. I didn't intend to put you down so much, the more I thought about things, the more I just had to speak what I felt was the truth. I had to accept that if you didn't like what I was saying, it wasn't that what I was saying was wrong or ill-mannered, it was that it was hitting too close to home.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that was an All- American Defensive End at West Georgia?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that joined the Fire Department?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that fights tooth and nail for every square inch?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
Brooks wipes some sweat from his brow.
“And you're the only person that can help me find the Justin Brooks that matters is you. And I sincerely hope that you are to find wherever the Big Bad is hiding, because if you can't. I don't know if its even worth my time coming to the ring on Episode Four. I don't think I can learn anything from his new, and definitely not improved blazè Justin Brooks. Actually, I know that I won't.”
“You're new found not giving a toss attitude could be good for one thing though.”
He grins cheekily.
“At least I won't have the ignominy finishing last in the group with a winless record.”
He gives a deliberately sarcastic thumbs up.
“Go me.”
Alex stands up, and starts to walk away, but stops and turns back.
“Justin – find something to stoke that fire that used to burn inside you. Otherwise, don't bother coming to San Diego, just stay in Atlanta. But, don't make up some plane trouble story to save face. Just be a man, and admit that you aren't coming to Episode Four because you are a lazy sloth and can't be bothered.”
Brooks walks out.
Alex Brooks is currently in Cancun. He is clad in is purple full length tights, that had a bright yellow python curled around each leg. He doesn't wear a shirt in Mexico, because even though he was small it didn't matter, no one was going to ridicule him for his physique, or lack thereof. The important thing in Mexico was his mask.
In Mexico, Alex Brooks was not Alex Brooks - he was Kid Venom.
He held the purple mask in his hand and looked it over. He always felt a sense of awe when he slipped the mask over his head. He imagined it was the same way Bruce Wayne when he became Batman, or Clark Kent when he became Superman.
For Alex, tonight was an important night in Mexico. Tonight, was the night he would challenge the biggest and baddest of them all, El Bestia Negro to a cage match. This was being done to defend the honour of his Mexican Mentor, El Stingray who The Black Beast had destroyed.
Alex Brooks, no, Kid Venom had to defend his honour. And tonight, he would. If El Bestia Negro was man enough to accept his challenge.
He expected he would be.
Alex finally slipped to the mask over his head, and tied it in the back. He completed his transformation into Kid Venom.
He was ready.
~*~*~
There is no Exodus Pro Banner. There is only Alex Brooks. The floor is dusty, the walls behind look like they have worn decades of grime, and worn it with pride. Alex is shirtless, and is wearing a pair of purple wrestling tights. There is something curled up and around the leg, but the position of his body makes it impossible to tell what it is. He is sweaty, no workout sweat, or physical effort sweat, but type of sweat you see when your body is engulfed by suffocating humidity.
“I was expecting the Big Bad Brooks. The one man wrecking crew, that stops only to take breath before destroying anything else that stands in his path.”
“But, so far I've got...”
“Nothing.”
“I find that disappointing.... real disappointing.”
“I compete to test my mettle against the best of the best, sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. But, I'm always there. I always turn to put my best against my opponent's best, because no matter what I can learn something my opponent.”
“That's why I was looking forward to facing you, Justin.”
“The key word there is was. I was looking forward to facing you, because you are one of the most talented men ever to step foot inside a wrestling ring. But, not only are you talented you are athletically gifted. You move like a ballerina and you hit like a semi trailer without brakes. I could learn a lot from you, but...”
“Right now, you don't seem to care. You don't seem to think that competing in this Winter Road tournament is important at all. You pushed a fired up and deadly Omar Wise to his absolute limit. You were the Big Bad. The immovable object.”
“Right now... I don't know what you are. I'm almost hoping that you are laying in wait, to strike me down with a surprise attack.”
Brooks tilts his head and rubs the back of his neck.
“Though, something tells me you are more likely sitting on your couch like Al Bundy, stuffing your face with doughnuts than anything else.”
“That's unfortunate.”
“You know, Justin, the more I think about it, the more I think that your “plane troubles” getting to RIMAC Arena for episode were nothing more than an excuse so you didn't have to get off the the aforementioned couch. So you could sit there scratching yourself, that's not unfortunate – that's just plain sad.”
“I'm sorry, Justin, I didn't set out to sound so mean and uncaring. I didn't intend to put you down so much, the more I thought about things, the more I just had to speak what I felt was the truth. I had to accept that if you didn't like what I was saying, it wasn't that what I was saying was wrong or ill-mannered, it was that it was hitting too close to home.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that was an All- American Defensive End at West Georgia?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that joined the Fire Department?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
“Where's the Justin Brooks that fights tooth and nail for every square inch?”
“Because right now I can't see him.”
Brooks wipes some sweat from his brow.
“And you're the only person that can help me find the Justin Brooks that matters is you. And I sincerely hope that you are to find wherever the Big Bad is hiding, because if you can't. I don't know if its even worth my time coming to the ring on Episode Four. I don't think I can learn anything from his new, and definitely not improved blazè Justin Brooks. Actually, I know that I won't.”
“You're new found not giving a toss attitude could be good for one thing though.”
He grins cheekily.
“At least I won't have the ignominy finishing last in the group with a winless record.”
He gives a deliberately sarcastic thumbs up.
“Go me.”
Alex stands up, and starts to walk away, but stops and turns back.
“Justin – find something to stoke that fire that used to burn inside you. Otherwise, don't bother coming to San Diego, just stay in Atlanta. But, don't make up some plane trouble story to save face. Just be a man, and admit that you aren't coming to Episode Four because you are a lazy sloth and can't be bothered.”
Brooks walks out.