Post by Ramesses on Dec 16, 2020 21:04:15 GMT -5
It took months to reach this point. From the day that Colton Saint signed with Project: Honor, the expectations were always high. The ideals, the courage, the hunger, those were the pillars of the expectations. The lights came on at the very first event, only to be swept away into darkness following a loss. The promoter came to him, apologizing for the defeat. It was wrong, one would say. Still a loss, still a blemish on a pristine record at the time. Let’s fix that, he thought to himself. With the remarkable Kimberly Chase giving the directions, he found himself returning to form. The victories began to add up, adding championships into the mix. It didn’t matter who the opponent was, he was going to make each night memorable. He didn’t take the days off, he didn’t sit back and wait for opportunities to come. Even with the lingering effects of the torn labrum that had ended his baseball career, Colton was determined to make the most of every opportunity.
Since October, Colton Saint had zero wins. Each match, more frustrating than the last. Boiling points were reached and the last contest proved just that. Why did it take so many people and so many gimmicked contests to put down the guy? Despite the efforts, why was it consistently pushed upon the wrestling world that he was a failure? They were the writers in the life of Colton Saint, and they simply didn’t do a good enough job.The last chapter was coming, he had to write his own farewell.
--Beverly Hills, CA--
“You’re going to love this, I promise.”
It was an eventful week. Bringing in ‘The Tidal Wave’ Matt Marsay, Colton knew he needed some help working toward being a better wrestler. A style that he rarely brought to the forefront, Colton was working on a unique style that would only be seen as a ‘Taste of Europe’. By the time Marsay was finished with him, Colton was able to dissect anyone in front of him with a simple string of holds that the Project: Honor faithful would never get to see. It was tragic yet fitting. Could we pretend that they would even understand? It didn’t involve chairs, barbed wire, baseball bats, tables, exploding things, and sock’em boppers. It was wrestling, pure and simple. ‘We don’t take kindly to that in these parts’. Deathmatches weren’t on his agenda going forward, but as we head into Unbreakable Resolution, a simple fight. A fight featuring two people who simply hate each other. One man hating another for past actions, one hating the other for his failure to do the right thing. It would all end when one man is unable to stand up. They used to call this a Texas Death Match, but now it’s reverted to something called a ‘Last Man Standing’ contest. How original millennial wrestling had become.
His piercing eyes had become tired. Slumped into the leather couch, Colton struggled to even move. He could only watch as various video games were played on the screen.
“What’s this one called?”
“Yakuza 0.”
“Oh.. The Yakuza.”
Sure, the game carried a lot of story. Lots of violence mixed with some karaoke and a guy named the ‘Walking Erection’. Why was he wearing a diaper? That wasn’t what he had expected, but that dance. MYOJIN probably danced like that. Given his attitude as of late, he probably wore a diaper as well. The baby always needed his bottle, Colton thought. Taking on this young man in his final contest, it was no surprise that Colton didn’t carry the same enthusiasm that many others would. It should be a challenge, it should be a classic match. It won’t be.
His eyelids had grown heavy, watching some guy named Kiryu beat down a bunch of weird looking fellas. The eighties must have been the dark ages, he thought.
“What’s up with..the..*yawn* neon lights?”
Barely able to let the sentence complete, he leaned back further into the couch. Who would have guessed that averaging three hours of sleep was an unacceptable amount leading into the ‘fight of his life’. Others wouldn’t understand, he barely understood. What was left in the ring at Unbreakable Resolution might be a body and soul. Maybe a layer of shit in the ring if he really became unmotivated enough to drop the pants and let one loose on the logo. You could never tell with the guy.
The last thing he remembered was Kiryu being in the back alley, fighting a bunch of thugs. Even the memories brought an electrical shock coursing through his hand. The impact of the punch into the concrete, it was beautiful. The thoughts began to slow down as he reached an uneasy slumber. The drowned out sounds of punches, kicks, and throws became absolute silence as he drifted away.
::Back Alley::
::Kamurocho::
The tired eyes suddenly opened. Slow to move, he could barely raise his neck as he sprawled out on the ground. What felt like seconds had turned into minutes, but he was finally able to sit himself up. He glanced down at his ensemble, including the charcoal grey suit with a black dress shirt underneath.
“ここはどこですか。 (Where am I?)”
A grunt came from him as he didn’t even understand the words that came out of his mouth. He cringed while looking down at his hands.
“なぜ私は日本語を話すのですか?ここはどこですか。(Why am I speaking Japanese? Where am I?)”
Planting his hands on the concrete, he pulled himself to a knee before rising to a vertical base. Such a pounding headache, he struggled to even look around due to the disorientation. Glancing down at his watch, he noticed the hands had stopped moving. Adding to the headache, his mind had begun to race. Staggering over to the wall, he pressed his hand against the bricks before coughing loudly. The intensity of the coughs had turned his stomach enough to the point of drawing the urge to vomit.
“理由は分かりませんが、この場所はおなじみに見えます。(I don’t know why, but this place looks familiar.)”
This had to have been a dream..
“ねえ！(Hey!)”
The simple word got his attention. He raised his head up before turning it to the series of individuals behind him. Five people, each one stranger than the last. In a V formation, one stood in the middle. He must have been the ring leader. A goofy haircut, very fancy clothing. Weak minded, cheap, couldn’t travel alone. He looked so much like MYOJIN, acted so much like the fallen ‘Star’. He wasn’t alone, obviously. A guy who looked like Genghis Khan, a guy who looked like Little Richard, some weird fella wearing a diaper, and the Easter Bunny?
“これは私たちの領土です!私たちは「輝く星のリーグ」の一部としてこれを主張します!死ぬ準備をする! (This is our territory! We claim this as part of the ‘League of Shining Stars’! Prepare to die!)”
As he fully turned toward them, he cocked his head in confusion. Who the hell wrote that out? Creativity at its finest. He dug into his pocket, pulling out the pack of cigarettes before getting one out. Pressing the cigarette between his lips, he lit it up while glaring at them. The lack of verbal response had annoyed the League as they slowly approached. He took a drag of the cigarette while watching them. They followed their leader like sheep, must have been the only people who would ever dream of following such a fool.
“あなたは耳が聞こえませんか?私たちは、あなたが死ぬと言いました! (Are you deaf? We said you’re going to die!)”
Maybe this actually was MYOJIN. Except, this fella seemed to be a little more coherent.
“これをファック、大丈夫行きましょう。(Fuck this, alright..Let’s go.)”
Refusing to take the cigarette out of his mouth, Colton clenched his fists with a slight smirk on his face. The opposition on the other hand, while not fearful, began doing synchronised dancing. What the hell was that? Did he just get served? The Easter Bunny charged over at Colton, only to take a nice elbow to the side of his floppy ear. The Bunny stumbled back before throwing a jumping spin kick. He missed. Colton looked down at the fella before delivering a nasty stomp to the head of the Bunny, rendering that freako unconscious.
Looking over at the four remaining idiots, Colton took another drag of the cigarette before giving a playful shrug. This was a field day for him as he noticed the Diaper-clad guy doing a sumo style warmup before charging in like the Bunny had. Much like his hopping comrade, he met a tragic end. Before he could even take a swing at the Outlaw, he was grabbed by the head and thrown into the brick wall. Making an outlandish face as he slid down to the ground, it was another one finished up. With a sense of overconfidence emerging, Colton didn’t notice the rest decided to charge him. He was tackled into the wall by Genghis Khan, and slapped by Little Richard. The Fallen Star threw everything he had as well, little girly slaps to the top of the Outlaw’s head. He may have broken a nail.
Little Richard let out a loud “WOOOOOOOOO” before throwing a punch, but accidentally hit Genghis. The two began to brawl as Colton simply watched. This made no sense. The super tough Mongolian decided that enough was enough, after doing a breakdance into an uppercut on Little Richard. The Fallen Star looked on in disbelief as his own trusted ally glared at him. Colton sat down and grabbed a newspaper. While he couldn’t read Japanese, he could at least find some amusing pictures.
“いいえ、やめてください。いいえ、彼を攻撃しないでください。ああ、痛みは、それを終わらせてください。 (No, please stop. No, don't attack him. Oh the pain, please make it end.)”
Perhaps it wasn’t the best strategy to take a time out to enjoy a nice viewing of the Japanese Enquierer, but here we were. Did you know that Versailles are splitting up? Wow, the egos. Surprised they didn’t call it quits after winning one award. Colton looked away from the newspaper, with a subtle wink before returning back to the news. Hey, baseball..
Before he could even read about the Hiroshima Toyo Carp, he felt a searing pain in the side of his neck. He reached up, only to feel a blade sticking out of his shoulder and lower neck. The cigarette dropped from his lips as his eyes grew blurry. Was it Genghis? That backstabber..Or neckstabber! Little Richard? No.. It was the Fallen Star. Colton attempted to pull the blade, but collapsed back into the wall. He felt the blade ripped from his neck as the Fallen Star glared down at him. He couldn’t hear any words, reaching for the guy before dropping side first to the ground.
Droplets of rain fell onto the dirt of a nearby cemetery. A young woman, protected by a veil and an umbrella over her head, peered down into the open grave. Her eyes locked on the opened casket that housed the body of Colton Saint. With a single rose in her hand, she didn’t hear the groundskeeper slowly approach. The noise she did hear though, was movement from inside of the grave. The one she saw had suddenly opened his eyes. That wasn’t normal for dead people. Usually they stay closed. This one, on the other hand, broke kayfabe death. A slow smile emerged on his face as he looked towards the lady, then at the sky.
“Did you really think it was going to be that easy? I’ve taken a lot of shit over the years. Let’s do a tally here. I have been ripped apart by barbed wire. I have fallen off of many, many tall objects. I took a blunt baseball bat to the side of the head that would have killed anybody else, unless the bat was rigged, then we got pro wrestling. It didn’t go like that though, people have had it out for me for a very long time. How would this place be any different? I could fall off the Empire State Building, with its 642 windows on the top six floors, and I’d survive somehow. No, brute force and excessive violence in a once scientific industry will not put me away. This ain’t acting class, no special effects, but once December 20th comes, the lights will be on bright. The cameras will roll, and the city of Denver will be lied to once again. No worse than the lies you’ve been told as a child, Shouta. That is your name, right? It’s fitting, considering all the shouting and pouting you have been doing. Every time I see your face on a poster, every time I hear your words, all I imagine is a toddler in the corner as he cries because he didn’t get his way.
You want to be a wrestler? You want to be the toughest badass that there is? It all starts from presentation. The world sees you as a sissy. Before you go on and cry about that too, let me explain. Only a child would constantly beg, bitch, and complain about how the system has held them down when they have been handed EVERYTHING. It’s almost as ridiculous as a World Champion complaining that the company is out to get them. See, you’ve been winning matches with your partner, and I bet you think you’re walking into December 20th with gold on the mind. There won’t be gold. I’ve held gold, and trust me when I say this, it’s fools gold. You only rent it, and it’s up to you to make the property worth more than it was before. I failed that task as the X-Factor Champion. It was worth less than that, no I didn’t get free rental cars. I didn’t get free hotels, I didn’t even get healthcare. What I got was nothing more than cheap complaints from people who wondered why I wouldn’t defend it. Did you know that I was in charge of defending my championship? You will be too, if by some miracle you and her come away with victory. The system loves you, can’t say the same about her. Whoops, I forgot a character to portray. Zane mean! Zane evil! Zane had it coming! Zane knows the truth. She knows the truth for one reason, because it took one hell of a man to tell her.
I did what I did to her to prove a point to you. Anything worth value to you, it can be taken at any time. Your opportunity to be the first ever X-Factor Champion, it went down in flames, didn’t it? All I had to do was look at you, and you were beaten. In another company, they had to separate you and I into different brands so you could get your confidence back. Little did they know that the confidence was short lived, when my little fucking sister destroyed you. A pacifist who wants to have fun completely obliterates you. You want to be a Champion? Or do you want to be an actor? Because you’re failing at both.”
Slowly sitting up from his casket, Colton looked around before lighting up another cigarette. He glanced around the six feet of solitude before continuing.
“I don’t hold it against you for being a professional wrestler. Any idiot can put on a pair of flat soled shoes and get into a ring. Any moron can slide underneath the bottom rope, primarily because of the lack of ability to climb between them. Any idiot can call themselves the greatest or the future, or a shining star.Eventually, all the stars fall, and the liars are exposed. You will never change your attitude, you will never change your outlook on what this business is. You will always be the dancing clown that the world expects you to be. You can do your three or four MMA moves that you think you know, and the world still see a guy who can’t fight. You can powder your nose and wear that wig or whatever you have going on there, and the world will still see a fraud. You’re not a wrestler, you’re not a fighter, you’re barely a human being. You’re a child trying to live in a man’s body, and you don’t know how to use it.
Now I can talk all day on how limited you are in terms of talent. Let’s go one above it, let’s talk about character, HUMAN character. This is the guy who took time out of his day to claim that somebody was his world. You know what that kind of guy does to friends, loved ones, all of the above? He tried to break them. He took my sister, my own flesh and blood, and turned her against me. He took advantage of her moment of weakness and told her all these fairytales of how Colton Saint was a bad, bad man. You used her. When you were done using her, you broke her fucking arm. That wasn’t enough, you apologized and cried. You hid under the table, hiding from the bad man while texting her to apologize. While trying to convince your ‘Lover’ that it was an accident. Turns out, to your own admission, it wasn’t. Turns out, all those things that you had told said ‘Lover’ were lies too. When I had her locked up with me, she asked me if I had looked at her phone recently. She was concerned that people wouldn’t be looking for her. She told me that nobody cared about her to even think of contacting her phone. I told her that everyone was looking, despite seeing three numbers show up on her phone. You know who’s number wasn’t on it? I recognized Lillie’s number, I recognized Morgan’s number. The third one was a skype number based out of Japan, but nobody from San Diego. No voicemails, one text, and it was from my sister. This was two days in.
I had to lie to her, keep the spirits up while I told her the truth about other things. Important things that actually have a lasting effect. Do you know why she has been so distant to you? Why she pulled you off of my sister? She sees through you. She saw the light, and I provided it. Now, I wasn’t going to say this, but there’s a lot of people who I have told that same truth to. I bet you notice the glares you get, I bet you notice being left off a card. I bet you think it’s all their fault, that the system is against them. No, they play neutral, the system isn’t against you. I am against you. December 20th, I will be the last person you ever face. You will not be the last person I ever face, because I will continue my journey in life without professional wrestling. I will continue my journey without Project: Honor, and I will continue my journey elsewhere for the time being. Somewhere you are going to run away from when your feeble empire falls at War of the Worlds. Can I promote that here, inside of a grave? I am just renting a space owned by a bunch of worms. They’re fine with it, and have allowed me to promote such a thing. You’re going to lose, more important, you’re going to be a changed man. You may have atone for some of your terrible acts, but at the end of the day, with all the lies uncovered… I will see you in this grave with me. I’ve already told the worms all about you. I told them you don’t like worms, that you find them icky. I told them they make great bait, I can catch some awesome fish with those guys.
Remember, Shouta. Your dancing isn’t going to get you a win. Not here. Not with me. One wrong step and YOU will be the one taking your last breath.”
The famous last words were spoken. He finished up his cigarette before killing it against the dirt. With one glance up at the groundskeeper and the woman, he gave a slight nod before laying back. His hands folded over his stomach, he closed his eyes. Entering his own sense of solitude, he allowed the dirt to be shoveled onto him. Now this was how you do a burial, he thought. As dirt continued to pour down onto him, the rose was dropped onto his chest. Having been through so much, maybe dead is better.
Since October, Colton Saint had zero wins. Each match, more frustrating than the last. Boiling points were reached and the last contest proved just that. Why did it take so many people and so many gimmicked contests to put down the guy? Despite the efforts, why was it consistently pushed upon the wrestling world that he was a failure? They were the writers in the life of Colton Saint, and they simply didn’t do a good enough job.The last chapter was coming, he had to write his own farewell.
--Beverly Hills, CA--
“You’re going to love this, I promise.”
It was an eventful week. Bringing in ‘The Tidal Wave’ Matt Marsay, Colton knew he needed some help working toward being a better wrestler. A style that he rarely brought to the forefront, Colton was working on a unique style that would only be seen as a ‘Taste of Europe’. By the time Marsay was finished with him, Colton was able to dissect anyone in front of him with a simple string of holds that the Project: Honor faithful would never get to see. It was tragic yet fitting. Could we pretend that they would even understand? It didn’t involve chairs, barbed wire, baseball bats, tables, exploding things, and sock’em boppers. It was wrestling, pure and simple. ‘We don’t take kindly to that in these parts’. Deathmatches weren’t on his agenda going forward, but as we head into Unbreakable Resolution, a simple fight. A fight featuring two people who simply hate each other. One man hating another for past actions, one hating the other for his failure to do the right thing. It would all end when one man is unable to stand up. They used to call this a Texas Death Match, but now it’s reverted to something called a ‘Last Man Standing’ contest. How original millennial wrestling had become.
His piercing eyes had become tired. Slumped into the leather couch, Colton struggled to even move. He could only watch as various video games were played on the screen.
“What’s this one called?”
“Yakuza 0.”
“Oh.. The Yakuza.”
Sure, the game carried a lot of story. Lots of violence mixed with some karaoke and a guy named the ‘Walking Erection’. Why was he wearing a diaper? That wasn’t what he had expected, but that dance. MYOJIN probably danced like that. Given his attitude as of late, he probably wore a diaper as well. The baby always needed his bottle, Colton thought. Taking on this young man in his final contest, it was no surprise that Colton didn’t carry the same enthusiasm that many others would. It should be a challenge, it should be a classic match. It won’t be.
His eyelids had grown heavy, watching some guy named Kiryu beat down a bunch of weird looking fellas. The eighties must have been the dark ages, he thought.
“What’s up with..the..*yawn* neon lights?”
Barely able to let the sentence complete, he leaned back further into the couch. Who would have guessed that averaging three hours of sleep was an unacceptable amount leading into the ‘fight of his life’. Others wouldn’t understand, he barely understood. What was left in the ring at Unbreakable Resolution might be a body and soul. Maybe a layer of shit in the ring if he really became unmotivated enough to drop the pants and let one loose on the logo. You could never tell with the guy.
The last thing he remembered was Kiryu being in the back alley, fighting a bunch of thugs. Even the memories brought an electrical shock coursing through his hand. The impact of the punch into the concrete, it was beautiful. The thoughts began to slow down as he reached an uneasy slumber. The drowned out sounds of punches, kicks, and throws became absolute silence as he drifted away.
::Back Alley::
::Kamurocho::
The tired eyes suddenly opened. Slow to move, he could barely raise his neck as he sprawled out on the ground. What felt like seconds had turned into minutes, but he was finally able to sit himself up. He glanced down at his ensemble, including the charcoal grey suit with a black dress shirt underneath.
“ここはどこですか。 (Where am I?)”
A grunt came from him as he didn’t even understand the words that came out of his mouth. He cringed while looking down at his hands.
“なぜ私は日本語を話すのですか?ここはどこですか。(Why am I speaking Japanese? Where am I?)”
Planting his hands on the concrete, he pulled himself to a knee before rising to a vertical base. Such a pounding headache, he struggled to even look around due to the disorientation. Glancing down at his watch, he noticed the hands had stopped moving. Adding to the headache, his mind had begun to race. Staggering over to the wall, he pressed his hand against the bricks before coughing loudly. The intensity of the coughs had turned his stomach enough to the point of drawing the urge to vomit.
“理由は分かりませんが、この場所はおなじみに見えます。(I don’t know why, but this place looks familiar.)”
This had to have been a dream..
“ねえ！(Hey!)”
The simple word got his attention. He raised his head up before turning it to the series of individuals behind him. Five people, each one stranger than the last. In a V formation, one stood in the middle. He must have been the ring leader. A goofy haircut, very fancy clothing. Weak minded, cheap, couldn’t travel alone. He looked so much like MYOJIN, acted so much like the fallen ‘Star’. He wasn’t alone, obviously. A guy who looked like Genghis Khan, a guy who looked like Little Richard, some weird fella wearing a diaper, and the Easter Bunny?
“これは私たちの領土です!私たちは「輝く星のリーグ」の一部としてこれを主張します!死ぬ準備をする! (This is our territory! We claim this as part of the ‘League of Shining Stars’! Prepare to die!)”
As he fully turned toward them, he cocked his head in confusion. Who the hell wrote that out? Creativity at its finest. He dug into his pocket, pulling out the pack of cigarettes before getting one out. Pressing the cigarette between his lips, he lit it up while glaring at them. The lack of verbal response had annoyed the League as they slowly approached. He took a drag of the cigarette while watching them. They followed their leader like sheep, must have been the only people who would ever dream of following such a fool.
“あなたは耳が聞こえませんか?私たちは、あなたが死ぬと言いました! (Are you deaf? We said you’re going to die!)”
Maybe this actually was MYOJIN. Except, this fella seemed to be a little more coherent.
“これをファック、大丈夫行きましょう。(Fuck this, alright..Let’s go.)”
Refusing to take the cigarette out of his mouth, Colton clenched his fists with a slight smirk on his face. The opposition on the other hand, while not fearful, began doing synchronised dancing. What the hell was that? Did he just get served? The Easter Bunny charged over at Colton, only to take a nice elbow to the side of his floppy ear. The Bunny stumbled back before throwing a jumping spin kick. He missed. Colton looked down at the fella before delivering a nasty stomp to the head of the Bunny, rendering that freako unconscious.
Looking over at the four remaining idiots, Colton took another drag of the cigarette before giving a playful shrug. This was a field day for him as he noticed the Diaper-clad guy doing a sumo style warmup before charging in like the Bunny had. Much like his hopping comrade, he met a tragic end. Before he could even take a swing at the Outlaw, he was grabbed by the head and thrown into the brick wall. Making an outlandish face as he slid down to the ground, it was another one finished up. With a sense of overconfidence emerging, Colton didn’t notice the rest decided to charge him. He was tackled into the wall by Genghis Khan, and slapped by Little Richard. The Fallen Star threw everything he had as well, little girly slaps to the top of the Outlaw’s head. He may have broken a nail.
Little Richard let out a loud “WOOOOOOOOO” before throwing a punch, but accidentally hit Genghis. The two began to brawl as Colton simply watched. This made no sense. The super tough Mongolian decided that enough was enough, after doing a breakdance into an uppercut on Little Richard. The Fallen Star looked on in disbelief as his own trusted ally glared at him. Colton sat down and grabbed a newspaper. While he couldn’t read Japanese, he could at least find some amusing pictures.
“いいえ、やめてください。いいえ、彼を攻撃しないでください。ああ、痛みは、それを終わらせてください。 (No, please stop. No, don't attack him. Oh the pain, please make it end.)”
Perhaps it wasn’t the best strategy to take a time out to enjoy a nice viewing of the Japanese Enquierer, but here we were. Did you know that Versailles are splitting up? Wow, the egos. Surprised they didn’t call it quits after winning one award. Colton looked away from the newspaper, with a subtle wink before returning back to the news. Hey, baseball..
Before he could even read about the Hiroshima Toyo Carp, he felt a searing pain in the side of his neck. He reached up, only to feel a blade sticking out of his shoulder and lower neck. The cigarette dropped from his lips as his eyes grew blurry. Was it Genghis? That backstabber..Or neckstabber! Little Richard? No.. It was the Fallen Star. Colton attempted to pull the blade, but collapsed back into the wall. He felt the blade ripped from his neck as the Fallen Star glared down at him. He couldn’t hear any words, reaching for the guy before dropping side first to the ground.
Droplets of rain fell onto the dirt of a nearby cemetery. A young woman, protected by a veil and an umbrella over her head, peered down into the open grave. Her eyes locked on the opened casket that housed the body of Colton Saint. With a single rose in her hand, she didn’t hear the groundskeeper slowly approach. The noise she did hear though, was movement from inside of the grave. The one she saw had suddenly opened his eyes. That wasn’t normal for dead people. Usually they stay closed. This one, on the other hand, broke kayfabe death. A slow smile emerged on his face as he looked towards the lady, then at the sky.
“Did you really think it was going to be that easy? I’ve taken a lot of shit over the years. Let’s do a tally here. I have been ripped apart by barbed wire. I have fallen off of many, many tall objects. I took a blunt baseball bat to the side of the head that would have killed anybody else, unless the bat was rigged, then we got pro wrestling. It didn’t go like that though, people have had it out for me for a very long time. How would this place be any different? I could fall off the Empire State Building, with its 642 windows on the top six floors, and I’d survive somehow. No, brute force and excessive violence in a once scientific industry will not put me away. This ain’t acting class, no special effects, but once December 20th comes, the lights will be on bright. The cameras will roll, and the city of Denver will be lied to once again. No worse than the lies you’ve been told as a child, Shouta. That is your name, right? It’s fitting, considering all the shouting and pouting you have been doing. Every time I see your face on a poster, every time I hear your words, all I imagine is a toddler in the corner as he cries because he didn’t get his way.
You want to be a wrestler? You want to be the toughest badass that there is? It all starts from presentation. The world sees you as a sissy. Before you go on and cry about that too, let me explain. Only a child would constantly beg, bitch, and complain about how the system has held them down when they have been handed EVERYTHING. It’s almost as ridiculous as a World Champion complaining that the company is out to get them. See, you’ve been winning matches with your partner, and I bet you think you’re walking into December 20th with gold on the mind. There won’t be gold. I’ve held gold, and trust me when I say this, it’s fools gold. You only rent it, and it’s up to you to make the property worth more than it was before. I failed that task as the X-Factor Champion. It was worth less than that, no I didn’t get free rental cars. I didn’t get free hotels, I didn’t even get healthcare. What I got was nothing more than cheap complaints from people who wondered why I wouldn’t defend it. Did you know that I was in charge of defending my championship? You will be too, if by some miracle you and her come away with victory. The system loves you, can’t say the same about her. Whoops, I forgot a character to portray. Zane mean! Zane evil! Zane had it coming! Zane knows the truth. She knows the truth for one reason, because it took one hell of a man to tell her.
I did what I did to her to prove a point to you. Anything worth value to you, it can be taken at any time. Your opportunity to be the first ever X-Factor Champion, it went down in flames, didn’t it? All I had to do was look at you, and you were beaten. In another company, they had to separate you and I into different brands so you could get your confidence back. Little did they know that the confidence was short lived, when my little fucking sister destroyed you. A pacifist who wants to have fun completely obliterates you. You want to be a Champion? Or do you want to be an actor? Because you’re failing at both.”
Slowly sitting up from his casket, Colton looked around before lighting up another cigarette. He glanced around the six feet of solitude before continuing.
“I don’t hold it against you for being a professional wrestler. Any idiot can put on a pair of flat soled shoes and get into a ring. Any moron can slide underneath the bottom rope, primarily because of the lack of ability to climb between them. Any idiot can call themselves the greatest or the future, or a shining star.Eventually, all the stars fall, and the liars are exposed. You will never change your attitude, you will never change your outlook on what this business is. You will always be the dancing clown that the world expects you to be. You can do your three or four MMA moves that you think you know, and the world still see a guy who can’t fight. You can powder your nose and wear that wig or whatever you have going on there, and the world will still see a fraud. You’re not a wrestler, you’re not a fighter, you’re barely a human being. You’re a child trying to live in a man’s body, and you don’t know how to use it.
Now I can talk all day on how limited you are in terms of talent. Let’s go one above it, let’s talk about character, HUMAN character. This is the guy who took time out of his day to claim that somebody was his world. You know what that kind of guy does to friends, loved ones, all of the above? He tried to break them. He took my sister, my own flesh and blood, and turned her against me. He took advantage of her moment of weakness and told her all these fairytales of how Colton Saint was a bad, bad man. You used her. When you were done using her, you broke her fucking arm. That wasn’t enough, you apologized and cried. You hid under the table, hiding from the bad man while texting her to apologize. While trying to convince your ‘Lover’ that it was an accident. Turns out, to your own admission, it wasn’t. Turns out, all those things that you had told said ‘Lover’ were lies too. When I had her locked up with me, she asked me if I had looked at her phone recently. She was concerned that people wouldn’t be looking for her. She told me that nobody cared about her to even think of contacting her phone. I told her that everyone was looking, despite seeing three numbers show up on her phone. You know who’s number wasn’t on it? I recognized Lillie’s number, I recognized Morgan’s number. The third one was a skype number based out of Japan, but nobody from San Diego. No voicemails, one text, and it was from my sister. This was two days in.
I had to lie to her, keep the spirits up while I told her the truth about other things. Important things that actually have a lasting effect. Do you know why she has been so distant to you? Why she pulled you off of my sister? She sees through you. She saw the light, and I provided it. Now, I wasn’t going to say this, but there’s a lot of people who I have told that same truth to. I bet you notice the glares you get, I bet you notice being left off a card. I bet you think it’s all their fault, that the system is against them. No, they play neutral, the system isn’t against you. I am against you. December 20th, I will be the last person you ever face. You will not be the last person I ever face, because I will continue my journey in life without professional wrestling. I will continue my journey without Project: Honor, and I will continue my journey elsewhere for the time being. Somewhere you are going to run away from when your feeble empire falls at War of the Worlds. Can I promote that here, inside of a grave? I am just renting a space owned by a bunch of worms. They’re fine with it, and have allowed me to promote such a thing. You’re going to lose, more important, you’re going to be a changed man. You may have atone for some of your terrible acts, but at the end of the day, with all the lies uncovered… I will see you in this grave with me. I’ve already told the worms all about you. I told them you don’t like worms, that you find them icky. I told them they make great bait, I can catch some awesome fish with those guys.
Remember, Shouta. Your dancing isn’t going to get you a win. Not here. Not with me. One wrong step and YOU will be the one taking your last breath.”
The famous last words were spoken. He finished up his cigarette before killing it against the dirt. With one glance up at the groundskeeper and the woman, he gave a slight nod before laying back. His hands folded over his stomach, he closed his eyes. Entering his own sense of solitude, he allowed the dirt to be shoveled onto him. Now this was how you do a burial, he thought. As dirt continued to pour down onto him, the rose was dropped onto his chest. Having been through so much, maybe dead is better.