Post by Crash Rodriguez on Oct 10, 2019 16:13:03 GMT -6
Just breathe. It's been a rush. What a PPv. What a match. What a beginning.
"Don't forget how shiny that belt is!"
Jace was able to talk me out of burning these damn things. He wants to parade about his championship so that's his choice. I'm leaving it to the side. Right there on that disgusting glass-top table.
I open my eyes and see my reflection. This dusty mirror, cracked like an egg in preparation of a healthy breakfast.
"Shouldn't we be eating breakfast?"
He's right I should be having breakfast. I fling open my medicine cabinet behind the mirror. A roach crawls out skittering away in fear. A sight I'm sure I'll see when I'm face to face with Xtreme.
I got distracted. I reach in and grab a small bottle of tequila and my backup pack of smokes. My only coping mechanisms. Tobacco and alcohol. My dearest friends.
"What a wonderful start to the day! We stare at this ugly mirror and begin smoking and drinking!"
I'm out of food. I've been to focused on the plan. On my plans. On what hell Xtreme will be forced to face. The chaos that'll surely batter our bodies like pigs being bred for bacon.
"Bacon! That sounds delicious. Why don't we buy some?"
There's lots to do. I don't intend to be pocketed as solely a tag team competitor. I'm here to take over everything. Tag Division and Singles. I'm here to own the world. This "New Era" of GCWA is mine. I intend to take it by force. First the Danger Boyz. Now Xtreme. Next could be any other motherfucker here. And one by one I'll take them down. One by god damn one.
"Well aren't we a match made in heaven? But seriously about that bacon…"
My stomach grumbles as the thought of food crosses my mind. I slam the medicine cabinet shut, I stare back at my reflection. My bruised face, missing incisor, the scar running under my eye. They're memories of what I've been through. Reminders of what I'll be going through again and again. At times I can't decide if I'm man or monster. My reverse image stares back at me, it's eyes piercing through mine. Seems today I'm a monster. It appears that this is what Xtreme gets to look forward to. A monster. A man who's thrown away his humanity just so to peel flesh from bone. To hurt himself. To hurt others.
"We just want to hurt. Doesn't matter if it's him or us. But let's make sure he hurts more than we do."
That's the plan. To throw that mediocre ragdoll around. To scratch out his eyes. To bust him open.
"YES! LET THERE BE BLOOD!"
There shall be plenty of blood. Enough to paint the town red. Enough to show this place who's taking over.
"We sound like a broken record. Do you think we'd impress Her being so dull?"
Her? Who are you talking about?
"Oh come on now. We know Her. We remember Her."
I don't though. Is it mother?
"Well that'd be fucking weird now wouldn't it?"
I don't know what he's on about. I step out of the bathroom and look upon the mess that has laid claim to my small apartment. Aren't I supposed to be rich with all these matches under my belt?
"Ha! Belt! I knew you loved that fucking thing!"
Perhaps I should use some of that money for a better life? Do I deserve a better life? Does anybody deserve anything?
"I don't know if Xtreme deserves the hell we're gonna bring him, but who cares? It sounds like too much fun"
It does sound fun. He has me there. I can hardly sleep anymore. I made my debut. I won gold. I'm already on the right track. Should I call Jace?
"Oh do that! We adore that devious bastard!"
I pull out my phone, as I type in his name my phone dies. So much for calling Jace now. Fuck it. I can do this myself. I'll break my opponents bones all on my own. I'll show the world I'm just as dangerous without The Reaper.
"Already planning to ditch the guy?"
No. I'm just saying I can handle singles competition without him watching me. I'm not getting pegged into being strictly a Tag Team. I'm Crash Rodriguez.
"You know what. We like when we're confident like this."
I throw my head back and begin to chug the bottle of tequila clasped in my hand. Maybe enough alcohol will numb the senses. I'm beginning to taste the blood already. I can smell it oozing from his cranium as I batter it against each ring post. I can feel it lubricate my hands as I throw him by his hair. I can hear the crimson pool beneath his limp body as I drag him to the corner. I can see the splatter as his head bounces off the mat after I hit him with The Crash Report.
"WOAH! That's all five senses!"
For now… All I can do… Is wait...
"Don't forget how shiny that belt is!"
Jace was able to talk me out of burning these damn things. He wants to parade about his championship so that's his choice. I'm leaving it to the side. Right there on that disgusting glass-top table.
I open my eyes and see my reflection. This dusty mirror, cracked like an egg in preparation of a healthy breakfast.
"Shouldn't we be eating breakfast?"
He's right I should be having breakfast. I fling open my medicine cabinet behind the mirror. A roach crawls out skittering away in fear. A sight I'm sure I'll see when I'm face to face with Xtreme.
I got distracted. I reach in and grab a small bottle of tequila and my backup pack of smokes. My only coping mechanisms. Tobacco and alcohol. My dearest friends.
"What a wonderful start to the day! We stare at this ugly mirror and begin smoking and drinking!"
I'm out of food. I've been to focused on the plan. On my plans. On what hell Xtreme will be forced to face. The chaos that'll surely batter our bodies like pigs being bred for bacon.
"Bacon! That sounds delicious. Why don't we buy some?"
There's lots to do. I don't intend to be pocketed as solely a tag team competitor. I'm here to take over everything. Tag Division and Singles. I'm here to own the world. This "New Era" of GCWA is mine. I intend to take it by force. First the Danger Boyz. Now Xtreme. Next could be any other motherfucker here. And one by one I'll take them down. One by god damn one.
"Well aren't we a match made in heaven? But seriously about that bacon…"
My stomach grumbles as the thought of food crosses my mind. I slam the medicine cabinet shut, I stare back at my reflection. My bruised face, missing incisor, the scar running under my eye. They're memories of what I've been through. Reminders of what I'll be going through again and again. At times I can't decide if I'm man or monster. My reverse image stares back at me, it's eyes piercing through mine. Seems today I'm a monster. It appears that this is what Xtreme gets to look forward to. A monster. A man who's thrown away his humanity just so to peel flesh from bone. To hurt himself. To hurt others.
"We just want to hurt. Doesn't matter if it's him or us. But let's make sure he hurts more than we do."
That's the plan. To throw that mediocre ragdoll around. To scratch out his eyes. To bust him open.
"YES! LET THERE BE BLOOD!"
There shall be plenty of blood. Enough to paint the town red. Enough to show this place who's taking over.
"We sound like a broken record. Do you think we'd impress Her being so dull?"
Her? Who are you talking about?
"Oh come on now. We know Her. We remember Her."
I don't though. Is it mother?
"Well that'd be fucking weird now wouldn't it?"
I don't know what he's on about. I step out of the bathroom and look upon the mess that has laid claim to my small apartment. Aren't I supposed to be rich with all these matches under my belt?
"Ha! Belt! I knew you loved that fucking thing!"
Perhaps I should use some of that money for a better life? Do I deserve a better life? Does anybody deserve anything?
"I don't know if Xtreme deserves the hell we're gonna bring him, but who cares? It sounds like too much fun"
It does sound fun. He has me there. I can hardly sleep anymore. I made my debut. I won gold. I'm already on the right track. Should I call Jace?
"Oh do that! We adore that devious bastard!"
I pull out my phone, as I type in his name my phone dies. So much for calling Jace now. Fuck it. I can do this myself. I'll break my opponents bones all on my own. I'll show the world I'm just as dangerous without The Reaper.
"Already planning to ditch the guy?"
No. I'm just saying I can handle singles competition without him watching me. I'm not getting pegged into being strictly a Tag Team. I'm Crash Rodriguez.
"You know what. We like when we're confident like this."
I throw my head back and begin to chug the bottle of tequila clasped in my hand. Maybe enough alcohol will numb the senses. I'm beginning to taste the blood already. I can smell it oozing from his cranium as I batter it against each ring post. I can feel it lubricate my hands as I throw him by his hair. I can hear the crimson pool beneath his limp body as I drag him to the corner. I can see the splatter as his head bounces off the mat after I hit him with The Crash Report.
"WOAH! That's all five senses!"
For now… All I can do… Is wait...