Post by White Satan on Mar 30, 2013 15:56:12 GMT -6
The scene starts in a hotel room, dimly lit as one would expect with a 10-year old child sleeping in the second of the double beds. With Fiona Rourke on the road, Jonathan Collins has taken his daughter with him on this roadtrip, leading him to have to have her as a background player in his pre-recorded promo.
"When I was a young man, I had a sense of entitlement in this industry. I thought the ability to do a few flips and entertain a crowd meant that I could have anything I wanted in pro wrestling. I thought that my word was law, and I'd be damned if I didn't get my way."
"Of course, I learned pretty quickly that it wasn't the case. The pro wrestling world wasn't my oyster, and it took me several years to get to the point that I felt I was being treated the way I wanted to be as a 20-year old in the industry. The moral of this story is that things take time, young Dom...so with that anecdote, let's get down to business."
Collins stops to ake a deep breath, gather his thoughs and nod for a moment, leaning closer to the edge of the bed he was sitting which also brings him closer to the camera.
"In most legitimately run promotions, if a title is vacated, a decision match is made. They take the number one contender of the vacated title and match them up with the number two contender. That's how the whole thing works. That being said, when Fiona Rourke was forced to vacate the International Title, you were going to get into a match to compete for the title. It just had to be against someone else, like rules would dictate. Of course, you think rules don't apply to you, and thus we have created a problem. You stole the EXODUS Pro International Title and have been proclaiming yourself our International Champion."
"Now see, this whole thing could have been avoided. Had you accepted your fate, I probably could have named a number two contender and we wouldn't have any issues. You'd probably have faced Kamigawa or someone else in a match that was going to tear the house down. Instead, we're at this point and you really only have yourself to blame. For the first time in your existence, you're staring down someone who doesn't know how to play your little game, but play it better. You're fuming, because someone finally out-bastard'ed the Tenacious Little Bastard. Now, you're not just facing a quality contender, but you're facing two. On top of that, you're facing your girlfriend and a guy you've legitimately pissed off. Now, you think that I put her in the middle of a mind game with you, but Dom...Heather's earned her place. What does that tell people how you feel about your girlfriend's in-ring ability if you think she's just a pawn?"
Collins grins a little smugly, an eyebrow raised as he looks at him.
"The truth is, I don't think you know what type of person you're dealing with, Dom. See, you think I'm not going to survive our match. You happen to think I won't live to see San Diego and my encounter with Kliff Ulysses the next night. That's where you're wrong, Dom. I'm going to survive because of that match. I'm going to beat you because you're nowhere near the level of Kliff Ulysses. I know what sort of monster Kliff is, and you? You're not a monster, you're a pimple. You're the proverbial pimple on the face of pro wrestling, waiting to be washed away by soap or popped. That's all you are, Dom...which makes sense, considering you so fervently defend another annoying cockroach like Tigre Oro."
"That's right, Frontier Grappling Arts fans! Dom Harter has taken to Twitter to stand up for Tigre Oro! The funny part is that it's only proven how disliked you are. When the heroes of FGA ignore my backfist to little Tigre Oro to side with me over you? It shows what kind of person you are. Needless to say, I wouldn't look for Dom Harter to have any real friends to look out for him at our next DVD taping. Poor Dom Harter is going to realize that not everything in my life, the life of EXODUS Pro, or the life of FGA revolves around him and the Murder."
Collins nods to himself, stopping for a moment to think about his words, head down looking at his feet for a moment before he stops to look back at the camera.
"When you've been in the business as long as I have, you find out a lot of things. You find out how many people respect you and want to work with you. You find out how many people would come help you in your darkest hour. You find out how many people are willing to deal with pests you have, especially when they're shared pests. Do you understand what you are, Dom? You might be our number one contender to the International Title, but you're still just a pest. You don't work best taking on problems head on, you work best sneaking around like a rodent, doing everything in such a skittish manner, that it seems like the best way to deal with you is to swat you with a newspaper, or stomp on you with a shoe."
"Or, in my case, plant the back of my fist into your cranium."
"Dom Harter, you did a great job going through five successful talents in EXODUS Pro, only one of which had the talent to stick around our roster. Yes, Dom, you went through five of the 'absolute best.' That is exactly why you have pitched a fit like a child when you have to go through your incredibly talented significant other and another talented wrestler for this title. You wanted an International Title match, and now you have it. Let's see what you can do when you're facing people with skill instead of scrubs like the world famous Michael Alexander."
"Here's something that's going to gnaw at you. When you go to San Diego the same night as I do, you're going to go into the EXODUS Pro locker room as two things, a pariah and a failure. When you realize that you've alienated every person in two locker rooms with the exception of Malcolm Drake, you're going to feel very small and alone. More importantly, you're going to have to go back to the locker rooms and look at everyone and know you didn't get the job done."
"You've gone out of your way to bury me, Dom. You've made it quite clear just what you think of me. However, what happens between April 6th and April 7th is going to be consequences you're forced to live with. When your own girlfriend is kicking you harder than anyone because you accused her of being a pawn in a mind game, that's your fault. When Ryuji Kamigawa is crushing you like an ant because you had to insult him and compare him to a whore, that will be your fault. When I break your nose with a ZERO Hour backfist and send you to San Diego as damaged goods for those two to pick off? Well, that's your fault too."
The smirk fades, but not into a look of anger or rage. Instead, Collins develops a more calm, serene smile as he nods.
"Keep burying me. If you happen to beat me, which...well, I'll give you a generous twenty-five percent chance, congratulations. You beat a broken down old warhorse. However, in the remaining seventy-five percent where I win? You look foolish. You look like the person you really are, Dom. And that is when I expose you for not only being a fraud, but when I prove that the 'best' FGA keeps throwing at me is nowhere near as good as I get...because I'm better. And your broken nose and bruised ego will remain."
"Why? Because I am Jonathan Collins. Because I am the Saint of Violence. Because I am professional wrestling, and you? You are a bump on the road to my date with destiny. Not a roadblock, not a detour, but a bump."
"So be ready accept your fate, because your ZERO Hour has arrived."
"And Preston? This one's for you. Grab a bag of chips and enjoy it...but before I forget, I have one little last thing for you, buddy."
Collins grins as that smug look comes back to his face.
"I'm honest when I say you're talented. I'm honest when I say that I'll personally hand you the International Title if you win at Invincible. I'm even honest when I say that I wish you luck there. However...when it comes to me telling you that you have a twenty-five percent chance to beat me?"
"I lied. You've got nothing, Harter. For the first time in FGA history, someone is going to slaughter a member of The Murder."
And with that, Collins reaches his hand forward to cut the camera's power, leading to a quick end and fade.
3/30/13
Philadelphia, PA
"It's good to see you again, Brando," he said, giving his long-time friend a hug. Brand and Alex were long time friends of his, having watched him go back to teach high school and then return to the ring. The pair of them had become a part of his life and his extended family, friends that knew the man that was Jonathan Collins, not the character or pro wrestler. Madison Collins already had a routine with Alex, her favorite babysitter growing up. The young woman had taught the little girl the joys of the TV show "Lost" while watching her as her father trained to get back into shape for a career in pro wrestling.
"We've seen some of the stuff, I can't believe you're really doing it!" Alex told him. "Are you going back to the major leagues or whatever?" she asked.
"Nah, I like where I am. I had a good run, this is just the victory lap, I guess. Whatever happens happens, right?" he asked with a grin as he also took his place at the dinner table. "Thanks for having us. I've still got a few more stops to make. I'm going to see Averie at some point in time, see how her training turned out. I might even stop by and see Ra--"
"Really? Your formerly pregnant ex-girlfriend?" Brand asked.
"I barely had a chance to see tiny. Last I heard, her and Denny started over, which is fine with me. I figured I'd drop by, especially because...well, I already came through town once and quietly saw Mandie," Jon said, referencing Rachel's sister who had also developed feelings at one point for Jon.
"Well, that's...interesting," Brand chuckled.
"You can say a lot of things about my life, but boring's never one of them. Don't worry though, we didn't kiss or sleep together or anything...we just sort of caught up. That's all that needed to be said and done," he mused, stopping to reach for his water.
"Are you going to see her tonight?" Alex asked, stopping to poke Madison in the nose, who was having as much fun seeing her old friend.
"No, I think I'm just gonna...go back to the hotel. I've had enough of old ghosts," Jon said quietly. "I made amends with everything in my life, I don't have a thing to be ashamed of. Besides, I'm seeing someone new now. She works in the business, she's away on a trip right now," he added.
"Where?" Brand asked. "Are we gonna get invited to the wedding?"
"I can barely tell her I love her, so you've got a long time before there are wedding bells. Madison might be in high school before that," he laughed. "But she's in Japan, and she's great, really. She keeps me feeling revived in some ways, reminds me of when I was her age," he said.
"Really? How old is she?" Alex asked.
"She's a lot younger, like 27," he admitted. "So I'm not necessarily feeling like a cradle robber, but it's weird that she was in middle school at the peak of all my achievements," he laughed.
"You're smooth, Jon, smooth," Brand laughed.
Jon laughed. Alex laughed. Madison smiled, realizing that for the first time in a while, it was just as it should have been. These were the days when there was no pro wrestling, simple times when they had family who cared about them as people. It wasn't like everyone wanted something from them now, but she didn't have that strange feeling that every time her father confronted someone, it would be his final confrontation. Madison Collins didn't ever voice these feelings and opinions, she knew better.
More importantly, she wanted to take those feelings and believe in something different, something better. She wanted something better, knowing what was in the past, and the clouds waiting in the future.
3/29/13
Anaheim, CA
"Thanks, doc," he said as he glanced at him with a smile.
"I can't promise you this is going to end well. I don't know what you've been doing, but I feel like it's hanging on by threads and duct tape," the doctor said, glancing at Jonathan Collins before he sighed. "But you've been working like that as long as I can remember," he conceded.
"So you'll write me a clean bill of health?" Jon asked.
"What I'm going to do is make sure you get fitted for a new brace. Use it, take the usual, and you should be able to get through the next couple of weeks," he said.
"All I really need," he said with a smile.
"You're lucky though, it's in better shape than I expected it to be in. Those years off helped," the doctor noted as Jon swung it back and forth.
"Well, what can I say? I get lucky," he joked.
"Let's hope you're lucky enough to not lose it by your 40th birthday," the doctor said. After a handshake, Jonathan stepped out and looked to his daughter, who had been waiting patiently. The two of them had walked to the car, Jon letting her in and then climbing into his car himself.
"How is it?" Madison asked.
"It's perfect," Jonathan Collins said. "Like it was brand new all over again."
"When I was a young man, I had a sense of entitlement in this industry. I thought the ability to do a few flips and entertain a crowd meant that I could have anything I wanted in pro wrestling. I thought that my word was law, and I'd be damned if I didn't get my way."
"Of course, I learned pretty quickly that it wasn't the case. The pro wrestling world wasn't my oyster, and it took me several years to get to the point that I felt I was being treated the way I wanted to be as a 20-year old in the industry. The moral of this story is that things take time, young Dom...so with that anecdote, let's get down to business."
Collins stops to ake a deep breath, gather his thoughs and nod for a moment, leaning closer to the edge of the bed he was sitting which also brings him closer to the camera.
"In most legitimately run promotions, if a title is vacated, a decision match is made. They take the number one contender of the vacated title and match them up with the number two contender. That's how the whole thing works. That being said, when Fiona Rourke was forced to vacate the International Title, you were going to get into a match to compete for the title. It just had to be against someone else, like rules would dictate. Of course, you think rules don't apply to you, and thus we have created a problem. You stole the EXODUS Pro International Title and have been proclaiming yourself our International Champion."
"Now see, this whole thing could have been avoided. Had you accepted your fate, I probably could have named a number two contender and we wouldn't have any issues. You'd probably have faced Kamigawa or someone else in a match that was going to tear the house down. Instead, we're at this point and you really only have yourself to blame. For the first time in your existence, you're staring down someone who doesn't know how to play your little game, but play it better. You're fuming, because someone finally out-bastard'ed the Tenacious Little Bastard. Now, you're not just facing a quality contender, but you're facing two. On top of that, you're facing your girlfriend and a guy you've legitimately pissed off. Now, you think that I put her in the middle of a mind game with you, but Dom...Heather's earned her place. What does that tell people how you feel about your girlfriend's in-ring ability if you think she's just a pawn?"
Collins grins a little smugly, an eyebrow raised as he looks at him.
"The truth is, I don't think you know what type of person you're dealing with, Dom. See, you think I'm not going to survive our match. You happen to think I won't live to see San Diego and my encounter with Kliff Ulysses the next night. That's where you're wrong, Dom. I'm going to survive because of that match. I'm going to beat you because you're nowhere near the level of Kliff Ulysses. I know what sort of monster Kliff is, and you? You're not a monster, you're a pimple. You're the proverbial pimple on the face of pro wrestling, waiting to be washed away by soap or popped. That's all you are, Dom...which makes sense, considering you so fervently defend another annoying cockroach like Tigre Oro."
"That's right, Frontier Grappling Arts fans! Dom Harter has taken to Twitter to stand up for Tigre Oro! The funny part is that it's only proven how disliked you are. When the heroes of FGA ignore my backfist to little Tigre Oro to side with me over you? It shows what kind of person you are. Needless to say, I wouldn't look for Dom Harter to have any real friends to look out for him at our next DVD taping. Poor Dom Harter is going to realize that not everything in my life, the life of EXODUS Pro, or the life of FGA revolves around him and the Murder."
Collins nods to himself, stopping for a moment to think about his words, head down looking at his feet for a moment before he stops to look back at the camera.
"When you've been in the business as long as I have, you find out a lot of things. You find out how many people respect you and want to work with you. You find out how many people would come help you in your darkest hour. You find out how many people are willing to deal with pests you have, especially when they're shared pests. Do you understand what you are, Dom? You might be our number one contender to the International Title, but you're still just a pest. You don't work best taking on problems head on, you work best sneaking around like a rodent, doing everything in such a skittish manner, that it seems like the best way to deal with you is to swat you with a newspaper, or stomp on you with a shoe."
"Or, in my case, plant the back of my fist into your cranium."
"Dom Harter, you did a great job going through five successful talents in EXODUS Pro, only one of which had the talent to stick around our roster. Yes, Dom, you went through five of the 'absolute best.' That is exactly why you have pitched a fit like a child when you have to go through your incredibly talented significant other and another talented wrestler for this title. You wanted an International Title match, and now you have it. Let's see what you can do when you're facing people with skill instead of scrubs like the world famous Michael Alexander."
"Here's something that's going to gnaw at you. When you go to San Diego the same night as I do, you're going to go into the EXODUS Pro locker room as two things, a pariah and a failure. When you realize that you've alienated every person in two locker rooms with the exception of Malcolm Drake, you're going to feel very small and alone. More importantly, you're going to have to go back to the locker rooms and look at everyone and know you didn't get the job done."
"You've gone out of your way to bury me, Dom. You've made it quite clear just what you think of me. However, what happens between April 6th and April 7th is going to be consequences you're forced to live with. When your own girlfriend is kicking you harder than anyone because you accused her of being a pawn in a mind game, that's your fault. When Ryuji Kamigawa is crushing you like an ant because you had to insult him and compare him to a whore, that will be your fault. When I break your nose with a ZERO Hour backfist and send you to San Diego as damaged goods for those two to pick off? Well, that's your fault too."
The smirk fades, but not into a look of anger or rage. Instead, Collins develops a more calm, serene smile as he nods.
"Keep burying me. If you happen to beat me, which...well, I'll give you a generous twenty-five percent chance, congratulations. You beat a broken down old warhorse. However, in the remaining seventy-five percent where I win? You look foolish. You look like the person you really are, Dom. And that is when I expose you for not only being a fraud, but when I prove that the 'best' FGA keeps throwing at me is nowhere near as good as I get...because I'm better. And your broken nose and bruised ego will remain."
"Why? Because I am Jonathan Collins. Because I am the Saint of Violence. Because I am professional wrestling, and you? You are a bump on the road to my date with destiny. Not a roadblock, not a detour, but a bump."
"So be ready accept your fate, because your ZERO Hour has arrived."
"And Preston? This one's for you. Grab a bag of chips and enjoy it...but before I forget, I have one little last thing for you, buddy."
Collins grins as that smug look comes back to his face.
"I'm honest when I say you're talented. I'm honest when I say that I'll personally hand you the International Title if you win at Invincible. I'm even honest when I say that I wish you luck there. However...when it comes to me telling you that you have a twenty-five percent chance to beat me?"
"I lied. You've got nothing, Harter. For the first time in FGA history, someone is going to slaughter a member of The Murder."
And with that, Collins reaches his hand forward to cut the camera's power, leading to a quick end and fade.
----------
3/30/13
Philadelphia, PA
"It's good to see you again, Brando," he said, giving his long-time friend a hug. Brand and Alex were long time friends of his, having watched him go back to teach high school and then return to the ring. The pair of them had become a part of his life and his extended family, friends that knew the man that was Jonathan Collins, not the character or pro wrestler. Madison Collins already had a routine with Alex, her favorite babysitter growing up. The young woman had taught the little girl the joys of the TV show "Lost" while watching her as her father trained to get back into shape for a career in pro wrestling.
"We've seen some of the stuff, I can't believe you're really doing it!" Alex told him. "Are you going back to the major leagues or whatever?" she asked.
"Nah, I like where I am. I had a good run, this is just the victory lap, I guess. Whatever happens happens, right?" he asked with a grin as he also took his place at the dinner table. "Thanks for having us. I've still got a few more stops to make. I'm going to see Averie at some point in time, see how her training turned out. I might even stop by and see Ra--"
"Really? Your formerly pregnant ex-girlfriend?" Brand asked.
"I barely had a chance to see tiny. Last I heard, her and Denny started over, which is fine with me. I figured I'd drop by, especially because...well, I already came through town once and quietly saw Mandie," Jon said, referencing Rachel's sister who had also developed feelings at one point for Jon.
"Well, that's...interesting," Brand chuckled.
"You can say a lot of things about my life, but boring's never one of them. Don't worry though, we didn't kiss or sleep together or anything...we just sort of caught up. That's all that needed to be said and done," he mused, stopping to reach for his water.
"Are you going to see her tonight?" Alex asked, stopping to poke Madison in the nose, who was having as much fun seeing her old friend.
"No, I think I'm just gonna...go back to the hotel. I've had enough of old ghosts," Jon said quietly. "I made amends with everything in my life, I don't have a thing to be ashamed of. Besides, I'm seeing someone new now. She works in the business, she's away on a trip right now," he added.
"Where?" Brand asked. "Are we gonna get invited to the wedding?"
"I can barely tell her I love her, so you've got a long time before there are wedding bells. Madison might be in high school before that," he laughed. "But she's in Japan, and she's great, really. She keeps me feeling revived in some ways, reminds me of when I was her age," he said.
"Really? How old is she?" Alex asked.
"She's a lot younger, like 27," he admitted. "So I'm not necessarily feeling like a cradle robber, but it's weird that she was in middle school at the peak of all my achievements," he laughed.
"You're smooth, Jon, smooth," Brand laughed.
Jon laughed. Alex laughed. Madison smiled, realizing that for the first time in a while, it was just as it should have been. These were the days when there was no pro wrestling, simple times when they had family who cared about them as people. It wasn't like everyone wanted something from them now, but she didn't have that strange feeling that every time her father confronted someone, it would be his final confrontation. Madison Collins didn't ever voice these feelings and opinions, she knew better.
More importantly, she wanted to take those feelings and believe in something different, something better. She wanted something better, knowing what was in the past, and the clouds waiting in the future.
----------
3/29/13
Anaheim, CA
"Thanks, doc," he said as he glanced at him with a smile.
"I can't promise you this is going to end well. I don't know what you've been doing, but I feel like it's hanging on by threads and duct tape," the doctor said, glancing at Jonathan Collins before he sighed. "But you've been working like that as long as I can remember," he conceded.
"So you'll write me a clean bill of health?" Jon asked.
"What I'm going to do is make sure you get fitted for a new brace. Use it, take the usual, and you should be able to get through the next couple of weeks," he said.
"All I really need," he said with a smile.
"You're lucky though, it's in better shape than I expected it to be in. Those years off helped," the doctor noted as Jon swung it back and forth.
"Well, what can I say? I get lucky," he joked.
"Let's hope you're lucky enough to not lose it by your 40th birthday," the doctor said. After a handshake, Jonathan stepped out and looked to his daughter, who had been waiting patiently. The two of them had walked to the car, Jon letting her in and then climbing into his car himself.
"How is it?" Madison asked.
"It's perfect," Jonathan Collins said. "Like it was brand new all over again."
