Post by emmanuelle on Oct 13, 2021 22:59:29 GMT -5
Wrigley Field
Chicago, Illinois
THIS was more like it. In a big venue, in a big match, Emmy walked away with a victory. One of the things that always made her smile was that most people would not expect someone like her to have the submission arsenal that she had acquired through hours of dojo training, experimentation and advice from former opponents. Anyone watching her matches knew that she was more than capable of showmanship. Now, with every submission and stoppage, she could show that she was capable of reaching that next level. Obviously a little banged up from her match but smiling, she makes her way back into the locker room area. An old-school baseball park was not Emmy’s cup of tea, especially seeing as she and others were made to use the “visitors” locker room instead of the far more modern, far more luxurious Chicago Cubs locker room. In a time not that long ago the Californian would have balked at such conditions but with the win to get herself back on track as well as her WrestleWorld victory minor inconveniences didn’t register as much. There was a small contingent of press waiting right behind the curtains, per the usual post-match setup. Emmy didn’t bother to stop when she saw them. All she did was smirk, make her hands into a makeshift pillow, and pretend to go to sleep before walking past, leaving just two sentences hanging in the air for the writers to work with.
“Big boy took himself a nap. And here I thought he was supposed to be a challenge.”
A hot shower and a fresh change of clothes later, Emmy made her way back out towards the exit with her gear in tow. She was dressed in a tight little sleeveless red dress with matching heels, obviously prepared for a night out. Just as she was making her way towards her rental, a frantic Crystal Ward made her way towards her.
“Excuse me, Emmanuelle, do you mind sharing a word with us? We would like to get your reaction to Indy Darling’s latest announcement.”
“Well, I don’t really have much to say about things that aren’t my business. Indy’s a fair guy and a decent GM who doesn’t try to cramp my style unlike some other places I’ve been.”
“But Emmy, I think you’ll find his latest announcement very much your business. I’m assuming that you haven’t heard about the tournament that’s been scheduled?”
“Tournament? Heh. I’m in so many damn tournaments that I can’t even count anymore. Lethal League, King of the World, I think there was one scheduled in J-ROK for me to participate in at some point. What tournament are you talking about?”
“The Clive Darling Memorial Cup. You will be participating in a round-robin style tournament against the man you just defeated, Brandon Hendrix, the woman who beat you in that sensational match in the Tokyo Dome, Tara Fenix….”
Emmy immediately gave the woman an annoyed stare, tapping her foot on the ground as a cue to hurry up.
“I’m sorry. Another recently dethroned champion, Former X-Factor Champion Lance Williams, is also in the field. The prize to the winner is not just the Clive Darling Memorial Trophy but the right to challenge for the Warrior Rising, X-Factor or Grand Championship, whichever one they choose. Do you have any thoughts about the prize or your opposition? Oh, this tournament will culminate at Proving Ground’s next big event: Chase for the Cup.”
She took a deep breath and leaned against her rental car. It was certainly a list of names that she was familiar with. Hendrix was dispatched easily enough just moments before. A big dog that barked a lot but didn’t really have much bite. Tara was different. Tara was becoming more of a close friend than Emmy would ever admit publicly, but she was still upset not only for losing the match at Night of Honor but also for Tara losing the Warrior Rising Championship the very next time out. Lance Williams, she’d teamed with and gone against him on several occasions. Nothing short of impressive in her mind...but very much the self-absorbed prick.
“Well. This is an interesting situation. I promised to move forward after losing my title and tonight’s win was symbolic of that. Does that mean that I’m going to pretend to be super-excited to participate in a tournament dedicated to the memory of a man whom I never met? No. What I am excited for however is the chance to show the world that I’m still very much a rising force. The names you’ve listed are all familiar to me and all will present some pretty difficult challenges. Even that clumsy kid Hendrix posed some significant problems tonight but unfortunately for him I’m a problem solver. I’m not going to give you the typical rigamarole of ‘talk about each tournament participant’ so don’t bother asking for it. I’ll do this like I do everything else: on my terms. One week at a time, one match at a time.”
Just like that, the opportunity that she had been hoping for had presented itself in the most convenient way possible! Now, she had an opportunity to do so much and to do it against opposition that she was extremely familiar with. Not only could she redress the result of that frustrating loss in Japan, but also she could set her sights on the most precious gold of all. As she took off to explore the Chicago nightlife and everything the Windy City had to offer, Emmy forced any thoughts about the Grand Championship, Warrior Rising Championship, or X-Factor Championship from her mind. One match at a time, one goal at a time. For now, the best thing would be to prepare for her first tournament match. And to celebrate her win that night.
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Dallas, Texas
Since things were going to be in Texas, Emmy decided to catch a flight down at the suggestion of her friend, fellow wrestler Diantha Rosso. Diantha and Emmy were very different in their regard to their approach to wrestling but because of their common ties to Diantha’s older brother the two had formed a fairly sisterly bond. Diantha, a seven-year pro who had managed to win several titles in both the United States and Japan, was home in the States after a long tour in Japan and decided to invite Emmy to one of her favorite events: The Texas State Fair. All the fried foods, annoying people and dizzying rides were music to a homesick Diantha’s ears. To Emmy, it was nauseating. Everything she tried made her want to vomit and she nearly did when Diantha goaded her into one of the most dangerous rides at the fair. After a few hours of rides, sampling foods and posing for pictures with the odd fan, the both of them had retired to the hotel. After a while, Diantha swung by Emmy’s suite to check in on her friend to see how she was doing. Emmy was sitting on her bed, eyes following a recording of Lance Williams on her iPad, studying his match with MYOJIN for the X-Factor Championship up close.
“Hey. What’s up, Di?”
“I just came by to see how you were doing. I’m sorry I got you on that ride. You didn’t enjoy it.”
“Pardon me for not enjoying the “Tower of Doom: The Most Dangerous Ride in the South” after eating fried Oreos, Fried Pork Chops and Fried Ice Cream….Oh and the Fried Apple and Funnel Cake! THEY FRY EVERYTHING HERE!”
“It’s wonderful, right!? I’m a Louisiana girl, but I always enjoyed when I would visit my cousins and go to the Fair here in Texas. So, what are you doing?”
“Studying.”
“Huh? Did you sign up for grad school without telling anyone?”
“No, you fucking ditz!”
Emmy flipped the pad over to show Lance picking up a fall over MYOJIN in the opening stages of their championship match. Diantha, ever the wrestling junkie, leaned in to pay close attention, watching the action with genuine interest.
“Which one are you fighting?”
“The one who is up five falls to one in that match you’re watching.”
“THAT GUY!? He’s huge...and he’s tossing around that weird pretty boy guy around pretty easily. Why does he look so familiar? He seems like someone I’ve seen in a J-Pop magazine or something before.”
“Yeah, he’s huge. But I’m getting more and more accustomed to fighting guys now. It’s weird, these big bulky tanks I have little problems with but little bitches around your size- no offense- can beat me.”
“None taken. I’m surprised to see you studying an opponent so intently. When you were in the Dojo with my brother you didn’t really seem to care much.”
“I didn’t.”
Diantha nodded, a small pang of jealousy overtaking her as she continued.
“Yeah. I wish that I could have been so carefree about it. When I started training in Mexico and before I went to Europe and Japan, I studied everything so hard. How to do moves, how to avoid getting hurt in the ring, wrestling etiquette in the locker room and so forth. But I was still so clumsy, so unrefined for so long. You were always a natural. Do you know how hard it is to beat someone like Arata Asakura for a title? You did it like it was nothing. I wish success came so easily to me…”
“The hell are you talking about? You’re one of the most beloved women in Japan. Fans fucking LOVE you? Heh. They tolerate me here and fucking hate me over there.”
“They don’t hate YOU, they’re just mad sometimes that you’re so naturally good at something that most people never will be...and you flaunt it.”
“So, you’re telling me that I’m kind of bitch?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“I see the vision.”
The two friends sat in silence for a while, watching the match as MYOJIN made his comeback to eventually tie the match, the crucial final seconds as Lance’s last-ditch effort came up half a second short.
“You probably should go after the arm. I know your submissions tend to target the head and neck, but your game plan may have to adjust just a little.”
“I’ve considered that too, and you and I both know this guy isn’t so dense he hasn’t thought about it too. I may need a backup plan if that goes awry.”
“Leg would be a good place to start. Maybe that shoulder too. If he’s a big fan of using spear tackles so much, do some damage and make him pay for using his own body as a weapon like that.”
“Yeah. Do you think you’ll ever wrestle in the States again full-time? It was fun having you as a traveling buddy the little time we shared a locker room.”
“I’m debating it. Emmy, you’re really good at wrestling. I hope you start to embrace the love you’re starting to feel for it. Yes, it has it’s crummy side. The shady promoters, the backstabbing people in the locker room, the weird crazies that make up some of the fan base. If you decide to love it, it will love you back. I promise.”
Emmy nodded in understanding. There was still a part of her that wanted to simply ignore the hold that wrestling had over her life. More and more, however, she was starting to understand that it wasn’t just the money or the accolades or material desires that she could satisfy via wrestling. She was starting to get addicted to the travel, the crowd energy, everything about it. For the first time in her adult life, the starlet was in love….
Here we are. For the first time, I’ll be throwing my hat into a Project: Honor tournament. This event organized by our general manager has a pretty exclusive guest list. I mean, there’s more people in the upcoming Grand Championship match than there are competing in this tournament. Doesn’t get more exclusive than that, does it? Anyway, there’s a lot on the line here. A lovely trophy, a chance to honor a great name. An opportunity to challenge for the title of our choosing if we win. For me, this tournament is about making good on the promises that I’ve made here. When I arrived, I told you all that I would be the biggest star, wrestle the biggest opponents on the grandest stages. With this tournament as a springboard, I will make that come true.
I’m sure most of you at home are expecting me to just, you know, rant and rave about everyone involved in this but where’s the fun in that? All that I’m focused on is dear old Lance Williams. A former Champion just like myself. We’ve been in the ring with each other quite a few times, haven’t we? We’ve been in tag team matches as partners, we’ve been on the other end of it. I’m not even going to pretend that you’re not an impressive athlete. That would be stupid, disingenous, and frankly cliche. You, Lance, are the epitome of a wrestling star. You have the size, you have the power, you have the conditioning, the killer instinct, you have everything that most people say are the building blocks of becoming a World Champion.
The only problem that I see is that sometimes you seem to believe your own hype. I warned you from afar in our last tag team match that MYOJIN was good enough to take the X-Factor Championship from you and he very much was. I don’t know what it was about leaving Big Drip behind or winning that X-Factor belt but somewhere along the line after our first encounter it seems that you became more and more of an attention-seeking dickwad. Making corny jokes about STDs, mocking someone’s dead parent, making all sorts of jokes about me cutting my hair. Oh, THAT ONE TIME YOU TOLD ME TO STAY IN “MY LANE”....I definitely didn’t forget about that.
You see, you and I never really had to come to blows in singles before because we had different trajectories and different paths. I indeed had my own lane and was more than happy to stay in it to make the Warrior Rising Championship mean something. Now that job is more or less done for the time being, I need a new job to stir up trouble. This tournament is the perfect thing for someone like me. You? You’re double tough, proven, you’re someone who can slide into the main event scene anywhere he goes without even a blink of an eye. Someone like me? I need something like this. Not because I lack confidence or have a craving for a trophy...but just to show the wrestling world that there’s more to me than the hairstyle choices and Twitter shennanigans and all that other nonsense.
Beating you is going to be quite a chore, no doubt. I’ve seen how good you are up close and personal, as ally and foe. But you would be bullshitting yourself if you don’t believe that you have a weakness that I can’t exploit. Hendrix thought that his superior power would save him when we met on the last Proving Ground episode? Guess what? I outmaneuvered and out countered him. I used his youthful exuberance and power against him. You know that Arata dude who is always screaming about Gaijin this, evil foreigner that even though HE is the foreigner here? I used his PRIDE against him. I knew he would take his skills for granted against me and not be properly prepared. He had no idea I could compete with him in the striking department.
BLAM!
One well placed body shot sent him down this path he’s on now. Even my buddy Myojin, who I think the world of, maybe didn’t take me quite as seriously as he should have when we met in the ring back in the day. His MMA background against a virtual unknown making her singles debut. I outwrestled him and used my submission savvy to make him tap out.
Maybe you’re going to be different from all of these guys. Maybe you’re going to throw me around like a cheap ragdoll and get yourself an easy five points. But, in my mind, I know exactly why you WON’T do just that: because you already think that this is guaranteed to you. You don’t even consider me a threat to you. How do I know this? Every time we’ve ever spoken you’ve been “BLAAAAALLL LANCE STRONG…..BLAAAAAAAAAHH EMMY WEAK! STAY IN LANE, OR LANCE BEAT YOU UP!”
There are some similarities between us. We both like beautiful women. We both travel well, we both put in work in the gym. I think if maybe one of us were less of a dick, we’d actually be a compatible tag team. But there is one difference: respect. I have respect for the people around me, the people I compete against. Do I think any of them are going to beat me when I step in the ring? No, but I understand that I have to prepare and make sure that does not happen. You? You have your moments of sloppiness. You’re on the beach when you should be getting ready for one of the biggest matches of your life. You spend more time running your mouth on social media than getting better. You think that you’re perfect, unintentionally putting a cap on your own potential.
Me? I think, no, I KNOW I’m very damn good. But I know I’m not perfect. I know that every week I have to go out there and prove it, bring it, because I’m willing to look back at losses not as an opportunity to rail against someone I don’t like or blame some vast conspiracy but to fix my own flaws. I cut my hair as a sign of rebirth, a parting of ways from some of the more childish ways of my past.
I know the score with people like you, my dude. You think you have everything figured out, that you have all the questions already answered. That people like me should just step aside and let you have your way just because you bench press a certain amount or that you “live for wrestling”. I obviously can’t win this tournament in one match, but just like I did with Hendrix and Oasis before you, I want to set the tone. I like my boys big, dumb and ugly.
Admittedly, you’re not THAT ugly. Rather handsome in fact. But hey, two outta three ain’t bad, right? Big and Dumb will have to do.
Chicago, Illinois
THIS was more like it. In a big venue, in a big match, Emmy walked away with a victory. One of the things that always made her smile was that most people would not expect someone like her to have the submission arsenal that she had acquired through hours of dojo training, experimentation and advice from former opponents. Anyone watching her matches knew that she was more than capable of showmanship. Now, with every submission and stoppage, she could show that she was capable of reaching that next level. Obviously a little banged up from her match but smiling, she makes her way back into the locker room area. An old-school baseball park was not Emmy’s cup of tea, especially seeing as she and others were made to use the “visitors” locker room instead of the far more modern, far more luxurious Chicago Cubs locker room. In a time not that long ago the Californian would have balked at such conditions but with the win to get herself back on track as well as her WrestleWorld victory minor inconveniences didn’t register as much. There was a small contingent of press waiting right behind the curtains, per the usual post-match setup. Emmy didn’t bother to stop when she saw them. All she did was smirk, make her hands into a makeshift pillow, and pretend to go to sleep before walking past, leaving just two sentences hanging in the air for the writers to work with.
“Big boy took himself a nap. And here I thought he was supposed to be a challenge.”
A hot shower and a fresh change of clothes later, Emmy made her way back out towards the exit with her gear in tow. She was dressed in a tight little sleeveless red dress with matching heels, obviously prepared for a night out. Just as she was making her way towards her rental, a frantic Crystal Ward made her way towards her.
“Excuse me, Emmanuelle, do you mind sharing a word with us? We would like to get your reaction to Indy Darling’s latest announcement.”
“Well, I don’t really have much to say about things that aren’t my business. Indy’s a fair guy and a decent GM who doesn’t try to cramp my style unlike some other places I’ve been.”
“But Emmy, I think you’ll find his latest announcement very much your business. I’m assuming that you haven’t heard about the tournament that’s been scheduled?”
“Tournament? Heh. I’m in so many damn tournaments that I can’t even count anymore. Lethal League, King of the World, I think there was one scheduled in J-ROK for me to participate in at some point. What tournament are you talking about?”
“The Clive Darling Memorial Cup. You will be participating in a round-robin style tournament against the man you just defeated, Brandon Hendrix, the woman who beat you in that sensational match in the Tokyo Dome, Tara Fenix….”
Emmy immediately gave the woman an annoyed stare, tapping her foot on the ground as a cue to hurry up.
“I’m sorry. Another recently dethroned champion, Former X-Factor Champion Lance Williams, is also in the field. The prize to the winner is not just the Clive Darling Memorial Trophy but the right to challenge for the Warrior Rising, X-Factor or Grand Championship, whichever one they choose. Do you have any thoughts about the prize or your opposition? Oh, this tournament will culminate at Proving Ground’s next big event: Chase for the Cup.”
She took a deep breath and leaned against her rental car. It was certainly a list of names that she was familiar with. Hendrix was dispatched easily enough just moments before. A big dog that barked a lot but didn’t really have much bite. Tara was different. Tara was becoming more of a close friend than Emmy would ever admit publicly, but she was still upset not only for losing the match at Night of Honor but also for Tara losing the Warrior Rising Championship the very next time out. Lance Williams, she’d teamed with and gone against him on several occasions. Nothing short of impressive in her mind...but very much the self-absorbed prick.
“Well. This is an interesting situation. I promised to move forward after losing my title and tonight’s win was symbolic of that. Does that mean that I’m going to pretend to be super-excited to participate in a tournament dedicated to the memory of a man whom I never met? No. What I am excited for however is the chance to show the world that I’m still very much a rising force. The names you’ve listed are all familiar to me and all will present some pretty difficult challenges. Even that clumsy kid Hendrix posed some significant problems tonight but unfortunately for him I’m a problem solver. I’m not going to give you the typical rigamarole of ‘talk about each tournament participant’ so don’t bother asking for it. I’ll do this like I do everything else: on my terms. One week at a time, one match at a time.”
Just like that, the opportunity that she had been hoping for had presented itself in the most convenient way possible! Now, she had an opportunity to do so much and to do it against opposition that she was extremely familiar with. Not only could she redress the result of that frustrating loss in Japan, but also she could set her sights on the most precious gold of all. As she took off to explore the Chicago nightlife and everything the Windy City had to offer, Emmy forced any thoughts about the Grand Championship, Warrior Rising Championship, or X-Factor Championship from her mind. One match at a time, one goal at a time. For now, the best thing would be to prepare for her first tournament match. And to celebrate her win that night.
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Dallas, Texas
Since things were going to be in Texas, Emmy decided to catch a flight down at the suggestion of her friend, fellow wrestler Diantha Rosso. Diantha and Emmy were very different in their regard to their approach to wrestling but because of their common ties to Diantha’s older brother the two had formed a fairly sisterly bond. Diantha, a seven-year pro who had managed to win several titles in both the United States and Japan, was home in the States after a long tour in Japan and decided to invite Emmy to one of her favorite events: The Texas State Fair. All the fried foods, annoying people and dizzying rides were music to a homesick Diantha’s ears. To Emmy, it was nauseating. Everything she tried made her want to vomit and she nearly did when Diantha goaded her into one of the most dangerous rides at the fair. After a few hours of rides, sampling foods and posing for pictures with the odd fan, the both of them had retired to the hotel. After a while, Diantha swung by Emmy’s suite to check in on her friend to see how she was doing. Emmy was sitting on her bed, eyes following a recording of Lance Williams on her iPad, studying his match with MYOJIN for the X-Factor Championship up close.
“Hey. What’s up, Di?”
“I just came by to see how you were doing. I’m sorry I got you on that ride. You didn’t enjoy it.”
“Pardon me for not enjoying the “Tower of Doom: The Most Dangerous Ride in the South” after eating fried Oreos, Fried Pork Chops and Fried Ice Cream….Oh and the Fried Apple and Funnel Cake! THEY FRY EVERYTHING HERE!”
“It’s wonderful, right!? I’m a Louisiana girl, but I always enjoyed when I would visit my cousins and go to the Fair here in Texas. So, what are you doing?”
“Studying.”
“Huh? Did you sign up for grad school without telling anyone?”
“No, you fucking ditz!”
Emmy flipped the pad over to show Lance picking up a fall over MYOJIN in the opening stages of their championship match. Diantha, ever the wrestling junkie, leaned in to pay close attention, watching the action with genuine interest.
“Which one are you fighting?”
“The one who is up five falls to one in that match you’re watching.”
“THAT GUY!? He’s huge...and he’s tossing around that weird pretty boy guy around pretty easily. Why does he look so familiar? He seems like someone I’ve seen in a J-Pop magazine or something before.”
“Yeah, he’s huge. But I’m getting more and more accustomed to fighting guys now. It’s weird, these big bulky tanks I have little problems with but little bitches around your size- no offense- can beat me.”
“None taken. I’m surprised to see you studying an opponent so intently. When you were in the Dojo with my brother you didn’t really seem to care much.”
“I didn’t.”
Diantha nodded, a small pang of jealousy overtaking her as she continued.
“Yeah. I wish that I could have been so carefree about it. When I started training in Mexico and before I went to Europe and Japan, I studied everything so hard. How to do moves, how to avoid getting hurt in the ring, wrestling etiquette in the locker room and so forth. But I was still so clumsy, so unrefined for so long. You were always a natural. Do you know how hard it is to beat someone like Arata Asakura for a title? You did it like it was nothing. I wish success came so easily to me…”
“The hell are you talking about? You’re one of the most beloved women in Japan. Fans fucking LOVE you? Heh. They tolerate me here and fucking hate me over there.”
“They don’t hate YOU, they’re just mad sometimes that you’re so naturally good at something that most people never will be...and you flaunt it.”
“So, you’re telling me that I’m kind of bitch?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“I see the vision.”
The two friends sat in silence for a while, watching the match as MYOJIN made his comeback to eventually tie the match, the crucial final seconds as Lance’s last-ditch effort came up half a second short.
“You probably should go after the arm. I know your submissions tend to target the head and neck, but your game plan may have to adjust just a little.”
“I’ve considered that too, and you and I both know this guy isn’t so dense he hasn’t thought about it too. I may need a backup plan if that goes awry.”
“Leg would be a good place to start. Maybe that shoulder too. If he’s a big fan of using spear tackles so much, do some damage and make him pay for using his own body as a weapon like that.”
“Yeah. Do you think you’ll ever wrestle in the States again full-time? It was fun having you as a traveling buddy the little time we shared a locker room.”
“I’m debating it. Emmy, you’re really good at wrestling. I hope you start to embrace the love you’re starting to feel for it. Yes, it has it’s crummy side. The shady promoters, the backstabbing people in the locker room, the weird crazies that make up some of the fan base. If you decide to love it, it will love you back. I promise.”
Emmy nodded in understanding. There was still a part of her that wanted to simply ignore the hold that wrestling had over her life. More and more, however, she was starting to understand that it wasn’t just the money or the accolades or material desires that she could satisfy via wrestling. She was starting to get addicted to the travel, the crowd energy, everything about it. For the first time in her adult life, the starlet was in love….
Here we are. For the first time, I’ll be throwing my hat into a Project: Honor tournament. This event organized by our general manager has a pretty exclusive guest list. I mean, there’s more people in the upcoming Grand Championship match than there are competing in this tournament. Doesn’t get more exclusive than that, does it? Anyway, there’s a lot on the line here. A lovely trophy, a chance to honor a great name. An opportunity to challenge for the title of our choosing if we win. For me, this tournament is about making good on the promises that I’ve made here. When I arrived, I told you all that I would be the biggest star, wrestle the biggest opponents on the grandest stages. With this tournament as a springboard, I will make that come true.
I’m sure most of you at home are expecting me to just, you know, rant and rave about everyone involved in this but where’s the fun in that? All that I’m focused on is dear old Lance Williams. A former Champion just like myself. We’ve been in the ring with each other quite a few times, haven’t we? We’ve been in tag team matches as partners, we’ve been on the other end of it. I’m not even going to pretend that you’re not an impressive athlete. That would be stupid, disingenous, and frankly cliche. You, Lance, are the epitome of a wrestling star. You have the size, you have the power, you have the conditioning, the killer instinct, you have everything that most people say are the building blocks of becoming a World Champion.
The only problem that I see is that sometimes you seem to believe your own hype. I warned you from afar in our last tag team match that MYOJIN was good enough to take the X-Factor Championship from you and he very much was. I don’t know what it was about leaving Big Drip behind or winning that X-Factor belt but somewhere along the line after our first encounter it seems that you became more and more of an attention-seeking dickwad. Making corny jokes about STDs, mocking someone’s dead parent, making all sorts of jokes about me cutting my hair. Oh, THAT ONE TIME YOU TOLD ME TO STAY IN “MY LANE”....I definitely didn’t forget about that.
You see, you and I never really had to come to blows in singles before because we had different trajectories and different paths. I indeed had my own lane and was more than happy to stay in it to make the Warrior Rising Championship mean something. Now that job is more or less done for the time being, I need a new job to stir up trouble. This tournament is the perfect thing for someone like me. You? You’re double tough, proven, you’re someone who can slide into the main event scene anywhere he goes without even a blink of an eye. Someone like me? I need something like this. Not because I lack confidence or have a craving for a trophy...but just to show the wrestling world that there’s more to me than the hairstyle choices and Twitter shennanigans and all that other nonsense.
Beating you is going to be quite a chore, no doubt. I’ve seen how good you are up close and personal, as ally and foe. But you would be bullshitting yourself if you don’t believe that you have a weakness that I can’t exploit. Hendrix thought that his superior power would save him when we met on the last Proving Ground episode? Guess what? I outmaneuvered and out countered him. I used his youthful exuberance and power against him. You know that Arata dude who is always screaming about Gaijin this, evil foreigner that even though HE is the foreigner here? I used his PRIDE against him. I knew he would take his skills for granted against me and not be properly prepared. He had no idea I could compete with him in the striking department.
BLAM!
One well placed body shot sent him down this path he’s on now. Even my buddy Myojin, who I think the world of, maybe didn’t take me quite as seriously as he should have when we met in the ring back in the day. His MMA background against a virtual unknown making her singles debut. I outwrestled him and used my submission savvy to make him tap out.
Maybe you’re going to be different from all of these guys. Maybe you’re going to throw me around like a cheap ragdoll and get yourself an easy five points. But, in my mind, I know exactly why you WON’T do just that: because you already think that this is guaranteed to you. You don’t even consider me a threat to you. How do I know this? Every time we’ve ever spoken you’ve been “BLAAAAALLL LANCE STRONG…..BLAAAAAAAAAHH EMMY WEAK! STAY IN LANE, OR LANCE BEAT YOU UP!”
There are some similarities between us. We both like beautiful women. We both travel well, we both put in work in the gym. I think if maybe one of us were less of a dick, we’d actually be a compatible tag team. But there is one difference: respect. I have respect for the people around me, the people I compete against. Do I think any of them are going to beat me when I step in the ring? No, but I understand that I have to prepare and make sure that does not happen. You? You have your moments of sloppiness. You’re on the beach when you should be getting ready for one of the biggest matches of your life. You spend more time running your mouth on social media than getting better. You think that you’re perfect, unintentionally putting a cap on your own potential.
Me? I think, no, I KNOW I’m very damn good. But I know I’m not perfect. I know that every week I have to go out there and prove it, bring it, because I’m willing to look back at losses not as an opportunity to rail against someone I don’t like or blame some vast conspiracy but to fix my own flaws. I cut my hair as a sign of rebirth, a parting of ways from some of the more childish ways of my past.
I know the score with people like you, my dude. You think you have everything figured out, that you have all the questions already answered. That people like me should just step aside and let you have your way just because you bench press a certain amount or that you “live for wrestling”. I obviously can’t win this tournament in one match, but just like I did with Hendrix and Oasis before you, I want to set the tone. I like my boys big, dumb and ugly.
Admittedly, you’re not THAT ugly. Rather handsome in fact. But hey, two outta three ain’t bad, right? Big and Dumb will have to do.