Post by Ace Anderson on Apr 24, 2006 15:11:27 GMT -5
Somehow, I find myself in the middle of the ring. The crowd is screaming and shouting, booing and heckling me. I look around, confused, not sure how I got here or why I’m here. Then it occurs to me. It must be Trauma [43], and Lantlas must be coming down that ramp soon. I can’t wait to beat the shit out of this stupid bastard. His music plays, and I look to the ramp. He comes out, and he looks angry. I get in my fighting stance, and I start some last second mental preparations. Clearing my head. Becoming focused. I close my eyes, and when I open them again, he’s running down the ramp. Only somehow, he is holding his medieval flail. He slides in under the bottom rope, and he stops. His cold eyes lock onto mine, and we begin a staredown. This goes on for a few seconds, until finally he raises the flail above his head and begins to swing it in a circle.
Is this guy fucking nuts? Ace may be arrogant, but Ace isn’t stupid, and neither is Jason. I have to get away from him. I don’t want to die. He approaches me now, and I turn to high tail it out of the ring. I’ll take a count-out over death any day.
But as I turn, I notice that I am trapped. The ring is now surrounded by four sides of steel. Trapped and left for certain doom. Unless..yes. The top is open. I have to climb out quickly, before he can hit me with that thing, and end my life, and my reign atop PCW. Dead guys aren’t very good wrestlers. I begin to climb up, not even bothering to look down at Lantlas. I can hear the flail being swung around and around. It is creating a wooshing through the air. Once I am about half way up, I can reach up and grab the top. I go to pull myself up.
It is as soon as I begin to apply an upward force with my arms that I feel it. Lantlas has crashed the flail right into my back. I can feel the bones shatter. I fall from the cage, and land on the mat. Lantlas now has the flail at his side. It is covered with blood. The warm red liquid starts to ooze out around me, as I lay bathing in my own demise. Not this way. Where is his honor? He begins to laugh. I can almost see his lips move. “Your chapter in the Elvish Tale, has now been closed.”
Except something was wrong. His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was ringing. I could read his lips, but all I could hear was a ringing sound. As well as the sound of vibration.
That was when I snapped out of it. I woke up, drenched in a sweat, a heap of man and blanket on my bedroom floor. My phone was ringing, and my back was sore. Must be from when I fell out of bed. That dream, it seemed so real. I struggle to my feet, and I pick up the phone that is sitting on the night stand next to my bed.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Ummm, Ace. We have a problem.” it is the voice of my agent. He sounds concerned.
“Yeah, what is it?” I ask, curious. I don’t know what to expect, but it must be bad for him to call me at this time. I look over to the clock. 9:30 A.M.
“I just got word. Someone is trying to frame you.” his voice comes out cautiously, not sure of how I’m going to respond.
“What exactly do you mean by that?” I ask, still not sure what he’s getting at. This can’t be good, no matter how he continues it.
“Lantlas’ locker room has been broken into and burned. Undisclosed personal items of value to him have been taken, with a note left that would seemingly be from you.” he tells me, as he finishes he exhales, waiting for my reaction.
“Who in the fuck would want to frame me? Why in the fuck would I want to break into his locker room? He doesn’t think that I did, does he? Is he stupid?” I fire out all at once, confused as I’ve ever been. I sit down on my bed now, as my agent begins to speak.
“Well, your feud with him is getting kind of intense. He hasn’t been here that long. He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t break into anyone’s locker room or do anything to their things. Nobody could really say that you wouldn’t.” he tells me.
I’m becoming a bit angry now. “How could he be so naive then? How could anyone be so naive? I’m not an arsonist and I’m not a thief. I’m a wrestler. It’s what I do. I like to play mind games with the best of them, but I’m not a fucking vandal. I’m going to have to do something about this, and fast.” I tell my agent.
“Be careful what you say, you don’t want to say anything that might incriminate yourself.” he tells me worriedly.
“Are you serious? There could be no proof that I was there, and a hand-writing specialist could prove that the note wasn’t left by me.” I tell him, “I’m going to go. I gotta sort this out right now. There’s no way I could go back to bed after this.” I say bye, as does my agent, and then I hang up the phone.
I wonder what that note said. I wonder what was taken. Who would want to frame me? I know people hate me, but to do such a horrible thing, and then make it look as though I did it...who would have the nerve? What can I do about this? How can I clear it up? This is foolish. Fucking foolish. How can I basically tell Lantlas that it wasn’t Ace without seeming like a complete pussy?
I walk out into my kitchen, and I get a bottle of water. I begin to sip from it as my mind is racing. Wait, I’ve got it! I set the bottle down. I walk into my computer room, and I take my video camera. I set it down on my desk, and I sit down in my chair. Hold on, something isn’t right. I don’t feel very Ace Anderson-like right now.
I get up from my chair, and I head to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, and then I put on my track jacket and a black t-shirt. There we go. Now I’m a bit more in-character. I walk back into the computer room, and sit down in the chair. I fix my hair with my fingers and I turn on the camera.
“Somebody sure does have a lot of FUCKING nerve.” I say with authority. “Ace Anderson heard about what happened to your locker room Lantlas. There is something that you should know right now. Ace Anderson didn’t do it, no matter how much whichever fuck-wad did it would want to make it look like he did. There are many things that Greatness in the Flesh is, such as an incredible wrestler, perfect human being, and Pure Class Wrestling World Champion. There are also a couple of things he isn’t. An arsonist, a thief, and a vandal. To think that Ace Anderson would act like a common criminal would be to say that God himself picked up hookers off the street. It’s just not plausible? Why would Ace Anderson put his life, and more importantly his career on the line just to steal something that would be useless to him from your locker room? If you are naive enough to think that it was Ace Anderson, you’re not quite the ‘wise elf’ that you say you are.”
I pause for a few seconds to let the last few sentences sink in.
“Lantlas. Ace Anderson has been spending the last week trying to prove something to you. He is simply the better wrestler. He may play mind games, but mind games are simply that. Mind games. He wouldn’t bother to go into your smelly ass locker room and torch your shit. That’s just not the way Mr. Anderson rolls. He settles his business in that ring. He’s not the littlest hobo, Non Compos Mentis, trying to prove how crazy he is, how much you have pushed him over the edge. Breaking into my neighbor’s house was the stupidest thing Non Compos Mentis has ever done, basically. Breaking into your locker room would easily be the stupidest thing Ace Anderson has ever done. He may be an arrogant mother fucker, but he isn’t retarded.” I pause again, to give Lantlas and the idiots who may be watching a chance to think over what I said.
“Here is Ace Anderson’s advice to you, ‘Elven One.’ Tuesday, you come down to that ring. You get in the ring, and you wrestle Ace Anderson. Hell, if it makes you happy you can pretend that Ace Anderson stole your tampon or whatever it was that was taken. Ace Anderson doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. As long as it gets your ass down to that ring to be beaten, that’s fine by Greatness. You do love to pretend things, Lantlas, so what would pretending one more thing hurt? Couldn’t hurt as much as you will be after you step into the ring with Ace Anderson, and there are no surprises, no sneak attacks, and Ace Anderson isn’t going to get fed up this time.” I paused to think a moment.
“Ace Anderson won’t use the World Title to blindside you. He won’t use a steel chair. He won’t knock out the ref and then find some way to ‘cheat you out of this match.’ Ace Anderson is simply going to get in that ring and give you the beating you deserve. He is just, plain and simple, going to out-wrestle you. That’s if you want a wrestling match. If you want a fight, hell, to sound cliche, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Mr. Anderson may have lost to The Byrd, but the difference between you and The Byrd, Lantlas, is that Ace Anderson doesn’t give a fuck about The Byrd. He really does hate you, however. Fuck destroying HHW, Lantlas. They’re of no matter. They don’t deserve to be in Ace’s ring. Blade, Douglas, Sinn, Geno, Laiman. They’ll kill themselves out of their own stupidity. Blade and Douglas will play Brokeback Mountain and bust each other’s ass. Sinn will break his other leg after he falls down six flights of stairs. Geno will get all the rave reviews with ‘Masterpiece Theatre.’ Laiman will try to start a new company, and the arena will fall down and kill him.” I get a stern look on my face after the few seconds of comic relief.
“It’s about destroying Lantlas now. Elven Path or not, you will fall at Ace Anderson’s hands. You will be made an example of. The Exemplifier is what’s in store for you. Your dream will come true, when you’re hit with a Touch of Greatness. The mat will be a close personal friend of yours, very soon. Those are the words of Greatness...in the Flesh.” I end off with that, the words that have sealed the fate of so many, and then I shut off the camera. I gotta get that out as soon as I can. I hook my camera up to my computer, and after some transferring and editing to make the promo flow better, I e-mail it to the TV crew.
I get up from my seat, and I walk back out to the kitchen. I finish off the bottle of water, and I walk from my kitchen into my living room. I plop down on the couch. I really can’t go back to sleep now. Not after being riled up from that promo. I turn on the TV, and it is on E! It is showing a commercial for PCW.
I forget about the TV though, as my mind goes back to that dream. It seemed so real. What could it have meant? I doubt Lantlas is stupid enough to try to kill me. Does it mean that I’m afraid of Lantlas?
You silly son of a bitch! Afraid of Lantlas? Hell, Greatness isn’t afraid of anyone, or anything. Especially not some half-wit loser with blue hair who thinks he’s an elf. That dream didn’t mean shit, except that you’re weak! You’re weak, and it’s gotta stop. You need to get rid of all of those pathetic thoughts, and start focusing. Focus on wrestling. You’re a wrestler, so you should focus on wrestling. Fuck that girl you saw at that stupid thing. Why the fuck would you ever want to help those dirty bastards anyway? If it was up to Ace Anderson, you’d use your money to kill them instead of help them. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have enough influence on your life. However, once we’re in that ring, Ace is the one who is calling all of the shots. Never forget that.
Ever.
It was weird. It’s the first time I’ve ever separated my thoughts between myself and Ace. I must be going crazy. Except...I think he’s right. Focusing on my match, focusing on winning, is what I need to do. Once I’m at that arena, I gotta be all business. I talk a big game, now I’ll be expected to back it up. I’m going to do just that. It’s time Ace Anderson steps off the Road to Greatness, just for a few minutes, and walks onto the Elven Path. It is here that he’ll find Lantlas, and proceed to kick his ass all around Pure Class Arena. THAT is the way that Greatness rolls.
Is this guy fucking nuts? Ace may be arrogant, but Ace isn’t stupid, and neither is Jason. I have to get away from him. I don’t want to die. He approaches me now, and I turn to high tail it out of the ring. I’ll take a count-out over death any day.
But as I turn, I notice that I am trapped. The ring is now surrounded by four sides of steel. Trapped and left for certain doom. Unless..yes. The top is open. I have to climb out quickly, before he can hit me with that thing, and end my life, and my reign atop PCW. Dead guys aren’t very good wrestlers. I begin to climb up, not even bothering to look down at Lantlas. I can hear the flail being swung around and around. It is creating a wooshing through the air. Once I am about half way up, I can reach up and grab the top. I go to pull myself up.
It is as soon as I begin to apply an upward force with my arms that I feel it. Lantlas has crashed the flail right into my back. I can feel the bones shatter. I fall from the cage, and land on the mat. Lantlas now has the flail at his side. It is covered with blood. The warm red liquid starts to ooze out around me, as I lay bathing in my own demise. Not this way. Where is his honor? He begins to laugh. I can almost see his lips move. “Your chapter in the Elvish Tale, has now been closed.”
Except something was wrong. His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was ringing. I could read his lips, but all I could hear was a ringing sound. As well as the sound of vibration.
That was when I snapped out of it. I woke up, drenched in a sweat, a heap of man and blanket on my bedroom floor. My phone was ringing, and my back was sore. Must be from when I fell out of bed. That dream, it seemed so real. I struggle to my feet, and I pick up the phone that is sitting on the night stand next to my bed.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Ummm, Ace. We have a problem.” it is the voice of my agent. He sounds concerned.
“Yeah, what is it?” I ask, curious. I don’t know what to expect, but it must be bad for him to call me at this time. I look over to the clock. 9:30 A.M.
“I just got word. Someone is trying to frame you.” his voice comes out cautiously, not sure of how I’m going to respond.
“What exactly do you mean by that?” I ask, still not sure what he’s getting at. This can’t be good, no matter how he continues it.
“Lantlas’ locker room has been broken into and burned. Undisclosed personal items of value to him have been taken, with a note left that would seemingly be from you.” he tells me, as he finishes he exhales, waiting for my reaction.
“Who in the fuck would want to frame me? Why in the fuck would I want to break into his locker room? He doesn’t think that I did, does he? Is he stupid?” I fire out all at once, confused as I’ve ever been. I sit down on my bed now, as my agent begins to speak.
“Well, your feud with him is getting kind of intense. He hasn’t been here that long. He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t break into anyone’s locker room or do anything to their things. Nobody could really say that you wouldn’t.” he tells me.
I’m becoming a bit angry now. “How could he be so naive then? How could anyone be so naive? I’m not an arsonist and I’m not a thief. I’m a wrestler. It’s what I do. I like to play mind games with the best of them, but I’m not a fucking vandal. I’m going to have to do something about this, and fast.” I tell my agent.
“Be careful what you say, you don’t want to say anything that might incriminate yourself.” he tells me worriedly.
“Are you serious? There could be no proof that I was there, and a hand-writing specialist could prove that the note wasn’t left by me.” I tell him, “I’m going to go. I gotta sort this out right now. There’s no way I could go back to bed after this.” I say bye, as does my agent, and then I hang up the phone.
I wonder what that note said. I wonder what was taken. Who would want to frame me? I know people hate me, but to do such a horrible thing, and then make it look as though I did it...who would have the nerve? What can I do about this? How can I clear it up? This is foolish. Fucking foolish. How can I basically tell Lantlas that it wasn’t Ace without seeming like a complete pussy?
I walk out into my kitchen, and I get a bottle of water. I begin to sip from it as my mind is racing. Wait, I’ve got it! I set the bottle down. I walk into my computer room, and I take my video camera. I set it down on my desk, and I sit down in my chair. Hold on, something isn’t right. I don’t feel very Ace Anderson-like right now.
I get up from my chair, and I head to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, and then I put on my track jacket and a black t-shirt. There we go. Now I’m a bit more in-character. I walk back into the computer room, and sit down in the chair. I fix my hair with my fingers and I turn on the camera.
“Somebody sure does have a lot of FUCKING nerve.” I say with authority. “Ace Anderson heard about what happened to your locker room Lantlas. There is something that you should know right now. Ace Anderson didn’t do it, no matter how much whichever fuck-wad did it would want to make it look like he did. There are many things that Greatness in the Flesh is, such as an incredible wrestler, perfect human being, and Pure Class Wrestling World Champion. There are also a couple of things he isn’t. An arsonist, a thief, and a vandal. To think that Ace Anderson would act like a common criminal would be to say that God himself picked up hookers off the street. It’s just not plausible? Why would Ace Anderson put his life, and more importantly his career on the line just to steal something that would be useless to him from your locker room? If you are naive enough to think that it was Ace Anderson, you’re not quite the ‘wise elf’ that you say you are.”
I pause for a few seconds to let the last few sentences sink in.
“Lantlas. Ace Anderson has been spending the last week trying to prove something to you. He is simply the better wrestler. He may play mind games, but mind games are simply that. Mind games. He wouldn’t bother to go into your smelly ass locker room and torch your shit. That’s just not the way Mr. Anderson rolls. He settles his business in that ring. He’s not the littlest hobo, Non Compos Mentis, trying to prove how crazy he is, how much you have pushed him over the edge. Breaking into my neighbor’s house was the stupidest thing Non Compos Mentis has ever done, basically. Breaking into your locker room would easily be the stupidest thing Ace Anderson has ever done. He may be an arrogant mother fucker, but he isn’t retarded.” I pause again, to give Lantlas and the idiots who may be watching a chance to think over what I said.
“Here is Ace Anderson’s advice to you, ‘Elven One.’ Tuesday, you come down to that ring. You get in the ring, and you wrestle Ace Anderson. Hell, if it makes you happy you can pretend that Ace Anderson stole your tampon or whatever it was that was taken. Ace Anderson doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. As long as it gets your ass down to that ring to be beaten, that’s fine by Greatness. You do love to pretend things, Lantlas, so what would pretending one more thing hurt? Couldn’t hurt as much as you will be after you step into the ring with Ace Anderson, and there are no surprises, no sneak attacks, and Ace Anderson isn’t going to get fed up this time.” I paused to think a moment.
“Ace Anderson won’t use the World Title to blindside you. He won’t use a steel chair. He won’t knock out the ref and then find some way to ‘cheat you out of this match.’ Ace Anderson is simply going to get in that ring and give you the beating you deserve. He is just, plain and simple, going to out-wrestle you. That’s if you want a wrestling match. If you want a fight, hell, to sound cliche, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Mr. Anderson may have lost to The Byrd, but the difference between you and The Byrd, Lantlas, is that Ace Anderson doesn’t give a fuck about The Byrd. He really does hate you, however. Fuck destroying HHW, Lantlas. They’re of no matter. They don’t deserve to be in Ace’s ring. Blade, Douglas, Sinn, Geno, Laiman. They’ll kill themselves out of their own stupidity. Blade and Douglas will play Brokeback Mountain and bust each other’s ass. Sinn will break his other leg after he falls down six flights of stairs. Geno will get all the rave reviews with ‘Masterpiece Theatre.’ Laiman will try to start a new company, and the arena will fall down and kill him.” I get a stern look on my face after the few seconds of comic relief.
“It’s about destroying Lantlas now. Elven Path or not, you will fall at Ace Anderson’s hands. You will be made an example of. The Exemplifier is what’s in store for you. Your dream will come true, when you’re hit with a Touch of Greatness. The mat will be a close personal friend of yours, very soon. Those are the words of Greatness...in the Flesh.” I end off with that, the words that have sealed the fate of so many, and then I shut off the camera. I gotta get that out as soon as I can. I hook my camera up to my computer, and after some transferring and editing to make the promo flow better, I e-mail it to the TV crew.
I get up from my seat, and I walk back out to the kitchen. I finish off the bottle of water, and I walk from my kitchen into my living room. I plop down on the couch. I really can’t go back to sleep now. Not after being riled up from that promo. I turn on the TV, and it is on E! It is showing a commercial for PCW.
I forget about the TV though, as my mind goes back to that dream. It seemed so real. What could it have meant? I doubt Lantlas is stupid enough to try to kill me. Does it mean that I’m afraid of Lantlas?
You silly son of a bitch! Afraid of Lantlas? Hell, Greatness isn’t afraid of anyone, or anything. Especially not some half-wit loser with blue hair who thinks he’s an elf. That dream didn’t mean shit, except that you’re weak! You’re weak, and it’s gotta stop. You need to get rid of all of those pathetic thoughts, and start focusing. Focus on wrestling. You’re a wrestler, so you should focus on wrestling. Fuck that girl you saw at that stupid thing. Why the fuck would you ever want to help those dirty bastards anyway? If it was up to Ace Anderson, you’d use your money to kill them instead of help them. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have enough influence on your life. However, once we’re in that ring, Ace is the one who is calling all of the shots. Never forget that.
Ever.
It was weird. It’s the first time I’ve ever separated my thoughts between myself and Ace. I must be going crazy. Except...I think he’s right. Focusing on my match, focusing on winning, is what I need to do. Once I’m at that arena, I gotta be all business. I talk a big game, now I’ll be expected to back it up. I’m going to do just that. It’s time Ace Anderson steps off the Road to Greatness, just for a few minutes, and walks onto the Elven Path. It is here that he’ll find Lantlas, and proceed to kick his ass all around Pure Class Arena. THAT is the way that Greatness rolls.
