mood:

aggravated
music: Cry for Help by Shinedown
~| Chapter One: Genesis |~
~| March 2009 |~[The scene opens up and we’re within the confines of a trailer. We see a pickup truck, a basic grill, and a hammock placed outside with a familiar looking man laying on the hammock smoking a cigarette. He’s holding a piece of paper up to the air, despite the fact that the sun is shining pretty damn brightly at this hour. He arches an eyebrow as if something has caught his attention and takes another puff of that cigarette. He folds the piece of paper and places it inside of an envelope, deciding to enter the trailer.
He places the letter on the kitchen table and heads down the short aisle towards his bedroom. He reaches over to the side of the bed and grabs a cell phone dialing a certain number. He taps his foot impatiently and then mouths off “Finally...” once the man on the other line manages to answer.]
“Hey man, did you hear about Vincent?”“Yeah, he just signed a contract to tag with me. Supposedly he’s upset that we didn’t get a title shot at SCW, so we’re jumping ship.”[He rubs his forehead and groans, seeing as he didn’t understand a damn word he was saying.]
“I wish you’d talk in simple terms. You know I don’t like that wrestling thing. *laughter on the other end* Anyways... he sent me a letter asking me to join him in that hug fest saying that I’d possibly like it.”“Did he say a particular reason why?”[He shrugs his shoulders in return and sounds annoyed.]
“He said something about releasing my pent up aggression. I’d believe him if he said martial arts, but wrestling? Come on, those bitches wouldn’t know tough times if it stared them in the face.”[Jay sighs and groans in return. He understands that this is an argument that’s never going to end, so he just transitions the subject into something else.]
“Look, I agree with him on that statement. Fighting is fighting no matter what. Not to mention that the level of competition is pretty high in MCW currently. You wouldn’t necessarily be breezing through the competition. It would keep you distracted plenty.”“What about my business? I mean, you don’t expect me to just give up on selling cars. It’s my dream... there’s got to be some sort of balance. I’ve heard the insane road stories and I don’t want any part of it.”“Well, those road stories are false. MCW doesn’t travel. They remain in Detroit, Michigan in the Joe Louis Arena. You would be able to start slow then move on to other companies if you feel you like it. Plus, you would get to spend more time with Vincent, since I know how buddy-buddy you two usually are.”[Lance smirks in return. There’s one thing he can’t deny. Vincent was more than just a cousin to him... he was a biological brother from how much time they spent together as kids. Vincent knew things about him that others didn’t. If he says something is worth trying, you bet your ass that Lance is going to try it. He treats what that guy says as gospel and tonight looks no different.]
“Fine. Just don’t expect me to ramble on about respect. I just care about the thrill of the fight. Nothing more, nothing less.”“I don’t expect nothing less, bro. As long as you’re in it for the right reasons. Don’t feel pressured by Vincent. Do it because you want to.”[With that, Lance hangs up the phone to smoke some more of his cigarette. Those last couple of words sunk in mighty deep as he stares deeply into a family portrait hanging on the wall in front of him. He leans against the headstand rubbing his chin. That offer looks mighty hard to turn down...]
*****[We flash forward two years and that man is now a two-time world heavyweight champion and happens to find himself in the kitchen area of his brother’s famous cottage house. That’s a mighty high step up from a trailer in Nashville, Tennessee... a bottle of Jack Daniels sits in front of him as Jay is on the opposite end laughing hysterically at the tale they just finished sharing. Lance shakes his head and smirks right back at his brother.]
“One thing that’s yet to change though is the fact that I’m still the rabid pit-bull. I still refuse to walk away from a fight. Challenging me to a particular stipulation is like making a deal with the devil.”“And that’s when I know you’ve spent way too much time with Vincent. You both drove each other to succeed. Your sparring sessions weren’t just horsing around. You two would scare us to death thinking you actually wanted to kill each other.”[Lance rolls his eyes at how naive his big brother really is. He then wags his finger at his brother teasingly.]
“If there’s one thing you haven’t learned is that we are stubborn. When we want something, come hell or high water, we’re going to get it. It doesn’t matter if we have to fight off an entire army on our own. I guess that’s what made me like this sport more and start to respect the competitors. I started to realize the sacrifices they make in order to place food on their tables on a daily basis. I started to realize why they liked it so much.”“I told you. Those four ropes are addicting as hell. Hell, it hurt to retire, but it needed to happen. What was left for me to prove? Absolutely nothing. I’m not going to be like the rest of these old fogies that are carted off on a stretcher forcibly. If I’m going to walk out, it’s on my terms, no one else’s.”[Lance suddenly glares at his brother, which causes him to get a bit confused by the change of demeanor.]
“What? Was it something I said?”“No offense meant, brother, but you definitely have lots more left to prove. You never went out there and reclaimed your throne. You seemed content with that short reign rather than fighting to get it back. It seems to me like Dave England convinced you too damn early.”[Jay shrugs his shoulders in response and stands up.]
“If that company does decide to step up and is worth the challenge, sure, I’ll wrestle. But as far as XPW goes, I beat everyone on the damn roster. I’m not going to be an egotist and make the whole fed revolve around me. That’s just stupid.”“Not everyone. Dave England still is riding that wave making people believe he killed you. I wouldn’t take that lying down if I were you. And there’s still UCW... you’ve yet to do anything there on your own.”[Jay rolls his eyes in return and leans on the edge of the bar style table. He seems agitated at this point as his tone of voice increases to support that case.]
“So what do you expect me to do? Be a liar and show these people that I’m not a man of my word? I said I’m here to help Ken Nogueira and I intend to do just that.”“Who was it that told Vero to stop ignoring herself and shoot for the stars? Who was it that told Jordan that he must be himself before anyone takes him serious? You to both of those answers. I’m not convinced your fire has stopped burning, Jay. If I know you well enough, your conscience burns with every passing month.”[His eyes narrow as he tries to stare deeply into Jay’s eyes, which causes him to backpedal slightly.]
“Again, this isn’t about me. It’s about making sure you realize what’s at stake here. Your mercy for your family caused you to tap out to Vincent. I don’t want that happening again.”“And I appreciate it. But I think it’s about time you pay attention to yourself. Do us all a favor, Jay... please, don’t retire. Wrestling needs you.”[Jay sighs and walks away towards the living room, apparently needing some space. He lays down on the couch and groans in pain, showing that it’s taking its toll on him.]
“I’ll leave you to think about it. Just realize what you’re doing here.”[He walks through the front door and closes it. Once he does, Jay sighs in relief shakes his head.]
“This is going to be a more stressful decision than I thought...” ***** “Two years... has it really been that long?”[Of course, the source of the voice really doesn’t expect that question to be answered. Lance shakes his head and leans back on the seat of a red colored Mustang. The seat is leaning back slightly as we’re looking at the back wall of the cottage house. On there we see back to back to back shelves with tools, radios, and the like. The usual of what you expect from a junkyard, where this man spends his free time fixing cars for the locals...]
“It was on May 18, 2009 that I walked down that ring to fight for MCW. At the time, all I wanted to do was fight. I didn’t care about this sport, my opponent, or even the fans watching in the seats. I had a one-track mind and surprisingly had quite the undefeated streak. I originally did this for my cousin, because I wanted to spend more time with him. Now, that same cousin makes me tap out at Road to Destiny for my other cousin’s Southern Justice Championship.”[He releases a rather exasperated sigh. It’s apparent that he’s not necessarily pleased with the result but he realizes he has to continue on. He doesn’t believe in making anyone have sympathy for him nor will he ever.]
“Ordinarily, you would have others in my same position bitch and moan about the result, say they got screwed or underestimated their opponent. Not me... I understood what I was facing; hell, I was trained by both parties into this business. I’m not going to lie, they earned their victory and I live to fight another day. Kind of like my opponent at Disorder in a couple of weeks... a man by the name of Jordan Post.”[He spits at the dirt to his side and shakes his head from side to side.]
“Normally, I would respect Jordan for his outlook on wrestling. He comes out here and overcomes the odds every single week yet gets no credit whatsoever. His ‘Shoot for the Stars’ rally is an inspiring one. You can’t help but cheer for a guy in that position... but, that all came crashing down when he chose to intimidate my brother in order to gain a championship opportunity.”[He slides down his glasses, looking down at the camera in vintage form. His eyes narrow as he finally acknowledges the camera, attempting to look into the soul of the viewer or even his opponent.]
“Now, I may not necessarily be a saint here, but my brother didn’t deserve that. All my brother wanted to do was teach you how to earn things the hard way. If that don’t suit you well, then I guess you wouldn’t last a damn day in the South, boy. That’s called tough love, get used to it. That’s the entire reason why you’re facing me in a couple of weeks. When you attack my family, you’re walking the tight rope already. It doesn’t matter what excuse is up your sleeve, you’re going to earn your stripes the hard way and it starts with the rabid pit-bull, Lance Williams!”[By now, you can pretty much tell his expression is that of pure rage. Through gritted teeth he breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down.]
“Oh, you’ve shown signs of regret alright... hell, I heard all of it against Shane Warner saying that you’re sorry. That you want to turn over a leaf and get the people to like you and all that mumbo jumbo. The sad part is, none of us are that naive, boy. You had your opportunity in XPW several damn times, yet you chose to spit on all our faces when you chose to give it all up for the stupid VIP club. Of course, I know your ventures through my brother. I wouldn’t necessarily be a two-time World Champion if I was lazy, now would I?”[He snorts in return before unleashing another loogie into the dirt at his side.]
“Now, boy, when we walk into that arena in a couple of weeks, I don’t want to hear any bitching or moaning. I damn sure don’t want to see you anywhere close to my brother’s office. It’s time to put up or shut up. I won’t accept nothing but the best because that’s the true definition of wrestling. Not the backstage politics, not the pointless porno and soap opera shit we see now... you’re either with us, or against us. Simple as that. Get used to this, kid, because unlike my brother, I’m not going away any time soon. Welcome to your Final Destination, a whooping that’s been long overdue.”[He snickers as the scene fades to black. At this pace, who could really blame him for it? Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time... just saying.]