Post by Barry Kemp on Jul 3, 2015 18:17:12 GMT -5
The feed opens in the middle of a slightly crowded bar, Barry's favorite "Trappys". There are open seats at the bar and booths open around the room, but for a Tuesday night, the crowd is not half bad. The camera moves in on the middle of the bar where Barry Kemp is sitting holding the neck of a Fat Tire and taking a sip. He looks up at the screen as Sportscenter barks news about NBA Free Agency at anyone that will listen. Barry takes another sip before the bartender comes back over and leans in front of Barry on the bar. She has dark black hair with a red bandanna wrapped around it and tattoos up and down her arm.
Bartender: Sorry Barry, now what were you saying?
Barry: I was just telling you that I was getting back into wrestling again. Finally.
The bartender looks at the beer in front of Barry. She offers to take it from him. He gets an angry look in his eyes and shakes his head at her.
Barry: I'm passed all that Cherry. I'm not an alcoholic anymore. I won't be showing up to work drunk ever again.
Cherry: You know, most alcoholics have to stop drinking before they are truly considered cured. Have you stopped drinking since you got kicked out of your last company?
Barry looks down at the bottle. He knows she had a point. But there were other factors in his life taking up the parts that alcohol used to fill. He was fine, and he knew he could control himself. He looked up from the beer and smiled at Cherry.
Barry: I see your point Cherry. But I'll be ok. I'm not drinking every day anymore. I don't feel like I have to drink to get by either. Things have really changed for me.
Cherry wipes down the bar around him and her. She see someone asking for another beer. She tells Barry one moment as she goes and cracks open another bottle and takes it down to the end of the bar. Barry swirls the last of his beer in the bottom of the barrel as he thinks about the past and the way his alcohol indulgment has gotten him fired from competing in his last company. He shook his head knowing he gave up alot of time he could have been competing and getting better. Cherry walks back over to Barry.
Cherry: So what's this new company? Where you going? Huh?
Barry: It's Pure Class Wrestling. They're a big company. They've been around for years. They're definitely a place I feel honored to have even been given a contract at. They've had some really good competitors walk out from their gorilla position. The fact that I will get to now, it get's me pretty hyped about doing better this time around.
Cherry: PCW? I know them. You're right, they do have some great names attached to them. Lantlas... Luis Malave... ???... I mean, I could go on and on.
Barry: Exactly. So the fact that even though my resume has HUGE red marks all over it and they still gave me a chance, that's huge to me. I'm not going to screw that up. So I think that should be sufficient enough for you to get me another beer then right?
She cocks her head sideways at Barry. She then smiles and turns grabbing him another beer.
Cherry: So I mean, not to bug you about it. But I'm not sure they're based out of Brooklyn. In fact, I'm almost sure of it. So I mean, I guess I'm still confused you moved back here when the last time I saw you you said you were never coming back. I mean... don't get me wrong. I like seeing you here... but you were pretty adamant.
Barry: You're right about that. I was definitely adamant. I mean, after getting fired and having my friends basically stop calling because I didn't have the money to buy bottles and get into VIP sections at clubs... it pissed me off. Everywhere I turned around here... it reminded me that I didn't have anything real left here.
Cherry nods with Barry as he talks. She understands and remembers every word that he is talking about. Barry stops after that last sentence though and Cherry hangs on it. She waits and waits, but he doesn't elaborate anymore.
Cherry: Well... I mean... that doesn't really explain why you're back here now then.
Barry: Oh right.
Barry laughs to himself taking a swig of his beer. In the past, Cherry and Barry had been an item. Something that didn't last long as Cherry, no matter how hard she tried, could not help Barry to slow down or stop his drinking. It eventually led to them breaking up and becoming friends. The true reason for his return to Brooklyn, he was afraid, would hurt her somehow. Although the idea was rather stupid considering the fact he'd only popped back into her life after a year in Philadelphia never calling or bothering to keep in touch.
Barry: Well... I happened across an old high school mate on twitter. There was a bit of an odd situation between the two of us back in high school. She kissed me in a line at the movies to make her boyfriend jealous. I thought it was because she was genuinely into me. Well turns out I was just in the right place at the right time to receive that angel's kiss. But I'd forgotten her and that moment for years and years. But then I started talking to her on twitter.
Cherry began to roll her eyes. Barry ignored her reaction knowing that she asked for an explanation and she was going to get what she asked for whether she liked it or not.
Barry: I remembered her, and that moment. She's even more beautiful today. It's crazy to just up and move on the premise of an idea. But I wanted to get to know her more now that I have the chance. So I'm back here in New York, starting my wrestling career over in one of the most prestigious companies around, hoping to get to know a girl I missed my chance with many years ago. And she's busy tonight, so here's where you find me Cherry. Gracing you with my presence.
He holds his beer up to her. And she just crosses her arms and shakes her head. She then swings her bar towel at his hand playing with him. He drops the beer back onto the bar and smiles at her. She smiles back.
Cherry: Well, no matter the reason Barry. I'm glad that you're back. I missed you.
Barry: I missed you too Cherry. I missed Brooklyn. And to be genuinely honest, I missed being happy like I am right now.
He blushed at her and looked down at the bar taking another drink. The camera then began panning out as Barry sat continuing to talk with his old friend. The feed then began fading to black.
I’d like to pretend that I’ve never been in the ring before. In PCW, I’ll be making my debut very soon. But the fact of the matter is this won’t be my first rodeo. And why exactly is that a bad thing?
I’ll tell you why.
The first attempt at stepping into the ring and being a top level competitor in the Professional Wrestling world was a complete and utter failure. I won, sure. But I also lost, a lot.
It had nothing to do with my skill the first time around. It had everything to do with my drive to live a lifestyle I had aggrandized in my head during all my years of training to get to that first company I was in. When I signed that contract, it was my license to party. I was in a bar, at a hotel party, or in a club day in and day out. And days of fights? I was in a bar up until the very moment I had to be at the gorilla position at times.
I made myself into the joke of the wrestling world. Oh you haven’t heard my punchline? I am very thankful for that. Cause it’s about as good a joke as anything you’d find on the end of a Popsicle stick.
I partied til the next partied and I partied while I partied. It was ridiculous. I spent a year more drunk than I was ever sober and it almost destroyed both me AND my career. I was fired as you could imagine on one of the most embarrassing days of my life. I stumbled, literally, down to the ring at my last show and before the bell could even ring the owner came out and fired me in front of the whole arena.
You can imagine how that went down. I didn’t leave gracefully either. As you, I’m sure, have encountered… a drunk who thinks he’s being wronged rarely backs down. I went at him and I’m still pending litigation in the lawsuit from those actions. I have a good idea that it will be dropped at this point, but having that floating over your head can really get a guy nervous.
So, here I am in PCW after six months of unemployment. I’ve curbed my drinking and I’m ready to fight again. I’m ready to do what I always trained to do. I’m ready to win. No longer do I care about the idea of living the lifestyle I created in my head. No, I want to wear gold around my waist. I want to be looked up to. Not looked down upon.
And it’s like the universe has handed me a monumental task to see if I really mean what I say. I wasn’t thrust into a dark match against some bottom of the barrel scrub to see what I could do. Instead, I’m not even the first match of the card. I’m lumped up in a four way match between several newer PCW signings. So if there was ever a test to see how much I really want to be back in the ring… this is it. If I lose, it won’t mean that I am not here for a reason. It’ll just mean that I am not fully prepared and must continue to push myself harder to get into a condition that is fit to be in the ring. One that is even more brutal than the one I’ve already put myself through.
But if I win, it’s a shot in the arm. It’s the boost in morale and self-worth that I desperately need. I screwed up big time last go round. I can’t do it again. And I have an audience this time around that I really don’t want to let down. There’s an added incentive to going out and doing well. Harper will be watching, and looking bad in front of her has got me more nervous than anything else.
Judge...
Hiroshi…
Lunatic…
You don’t know me. How could you? But I don’t know you either. There’s a lot of mystery and intrigue here isn’t there? I promise, I may not be something you’ve never seen at Trauma 175… but I will develop into it. And you may be ready for me, but I promise there will still be hits that knock you back and make you wonder just where all that power came from. I’m ready for you. Granted I’ve not been able to do much scouting in the short time since our match was announced, but I have an idea of what to expect. And in a four way cluster frack like this… will it even matter. Every man for himself right?
I’ll see you at Trauma…
...where I plan to become the wrestler I always should have been.
I’ll tell you why.
The first attempt at stepping into the ring and being a top level competitor in the Professional Wrestling world was a complete and utter failure. I won, sure. But I also lost, a lot.
It had nothing to do with my skill the first time around. It had everything to do with my drive to live a lifestyle I had aggrandized in my head during all my years of training to get to that first company I was in. When I signed that contract, it was my license to party. I was in a bar, at a hotel party, or in a club day in and day out. And days of fights? I was in a bar up until the very moment I had to be at the gorilla position at times.
I made myself into the joke of the wrestling world. Oh you haven’t heard my punchline? I am very thankful for that. Cause it’s about as good a joke as anything you’d find on the end of a Popsicle stick.
I partied til the next partied and I partied while I partied. It was ridiculous. I spent a year more drunk than I was ever sober and it almost destroyed both me AND my career. I was fired as you could imagine on one of the most embarrassing days of my life. I stumbled, literally, down to the ring at my last show and before the bell could even ring the owner came out and fired me in front of the whole arena.
You can imagine how that went down. I didn’t leave gracefully either. As you, I’m sure, have encountered… a drunk who thinks he’s being wronged rarely backs down. I went at him and I’m still pending litigation in the lawsuit from those actions. I have a good idea that it will be dropped at this point, but having that floating over your head can really get a guy nervous.
So, here I am in PCW after six months of unemployment. I’ve curbed my drinking and I’m ready to fight again. I’m ready to do what I always trained to do. I’m ready to win. No longer do I care about the idea of living the lifestyle I created in my head. No, I want to wear gold around my waist. I want to be looked up to. Not looked down upon.
And it’s like the universe has handed me a monumental task to see if I really mean what I say. I wasn’t thrust into a dark match against some bottom of the barrel scrub to see what I could do. Instead, I’m not even the first match of the card. I’m lumped up in a four way match between several newer PCW signings. So if there was ever a test to see how much I really want to be back in the ring… this is it. If I lose, it won’t mean that I am not here for a reason. It’ll just mean that I am not fully prepared and must continue to push myself harder to get into a condition that is fit to be in the ring. One that is even more brutal than the one I’ve already put myself through.
But if I win, it’s a shot in the arm. It’s the boost in morale and self-worth that I desperately need. I screwed up big time last go round. I can’t do it again. And I have an audience this time around that I really don’t want to let down. There’s an added incentive to going out and doing well. Harper will be watching, and looking bad in front of her has got me more nervous than anything else.
Judge...
Hiroshi…
Lunatic…
You don’t know me. How could you? But I don’t know you either. There’s a lot of mystery and intrigue here isn’t there? I promise, I may not be something you’ve never seen at Trauma 175… but I will develop into it. And you may be ready for me, but I promise there will still be hits that knock you back and make you wonder just where all that power came from. I’m ready for you. Granted I’ve not been able to do much scouting in the short time since our match was announced, but I have an idea of what to expect. And in a four way cluster frack like this… will it even matter. Every man for himself right?
I’ll see you at Trauma…
...where I plan to become the wrestler I always should have been.
