Post by The DVC on Nov 13, 2017 0:10:51 GMT -5
"We're not... in Seattle anymore... Toto."
(FADEIN: The nation's capital... away from the glitz and glam of a desert oasis and into stark grittiness of an East Coast urban setting. Once again, the camera opens inside another local boxing club, although the culture and patronage looks remarkably different from the Irish-influenced, white-dominated gym back in Boston. Clearly, this isn't the place the tourists visit on their sight-seeing trips to D.C. But for some others, who aren't quite as bothered by racial tensions, it serves its purpose. Once again in a far corner, we find Erik Josten off to himself, apart from the regulars, occupying himself with a series of chin-ups on a bar set a couple meters off the ground. Beads of sweat roll down the young athletes back, implying that he's been at this for a while. By sheer irony, Pink Floyd's "Money" is playing on the nearby portable radio on the bench next to his stuff.)
"I'm beginning to learn... just how much... of a roller coaster... this business can be."
(He addresses the camera between reps, before finally reaching a limit and dropping to the floor. As he turns to show his face, we can see he's appearing without that usual youthful zest. Instead, his features have hardened to an expression of determination and steeled will.)
"I left Nashville after Brawl riding on Cloud Nine, feeling good about myself after a "victory" over whoever was Tristan Slater. Then arrived at Brawl in Detroit, where I was brought crashing back down to earth courtesy of a bitch like Nick Ryan. He knows that he can't face me straight up and beat me, so he attacks from behind. That's cool. But what really pisses me off is that he had to nerve to take MY TV title like it's his own. That's something he's isn't good enough to earn and he has it like he's a real champions."
(He shakes his head, pursing his lips briefly into a grimace as the sting of the attack hits him again.)
"I'm disappointed in myself. I should've been better prepared to expect that punk to pull something like that. I just have to keep chipping away, doing what I can to improve myself and prevent those mistakes from happening again. Better to learn that lesson now, than later down the line, when something potentially more valuable is at stake."
(His attitude softens as he speaks on the silver lining in the cloud, and briefly towels himself down before speaking to the camera again.)
"So I congratulate you, Nick Ryan... but understand that Monday night when you and I come face to face between those ropes, it's going to be a much different story. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to break you in half. Most importantly.. I'm going to retire you; and put you right on the shelf, right next to your worthless brother."
(He pulls from his Dojo-issued duffle bag the latest t-shirt out of WGWF's merch department: the new official Erik Josten t-shirt, blue in color with "No Excuses" emblazoned across the front in thick white strokes. Rocking his colors)
"But he's not the only one on my radar. Monday night, I'll also be standing across the ring from Andy Johnson-Page, a man who boasts gifted talents and star-power as his two greatest assets."
"Andy... allow me to begin by humbly recognizing your impressive qualities in natural ability and charisma. Judging by the company you're often seen in, you're clearly a man to be envied in those respects. And, perhaps that's why you've gained the favor of the fans and management... because they see in you a man who can use put God-given talents to use and make this company a lot of money in the process. If that's the path of life you choose, then power to you... the weight of a fine woman on your shoulder is nice, to be certain."
(He stops the portable radio in the middle of Roger Waters singing about money being the root of all evil, and stows it away in the bag.)
"Personally speaking, though... I don't know if feel it's as nice as holding up the weight of a championship belt, that was put there on your own determined effort."
"When it comes to my own level recognition, Andy, I feel it's a thing to be earned by focusing more on the sport, rather than the spectacle that 'superstar wrestlers' like you have made it out to be. I want people to come see me for the athlete that I am, rather than being a celebrity. I'll create my own star-power and fill those seats by leaning on those very qualities you so callously pass off as 'throwaway'. Practice, patience, perseverance... those things the hip, sarcasm-fueled pop culture of today's sports entertainment industry deem as vanilla. Certainly lacking in flair, but at the end of the day, for as boring as it all gets perceived, the fans still come out to see it, and they remember it when they go home."
"Those fans may look at you now, Andy, and wish they had the things you have... like you're a living constant reminder that they are all born to be losers. But I don't fly that way. I go into that ring to prove to those fans that champions aren't born; they're made. I want to inspire those fans to believe they can have anything they want, so long as they work hard and have the willingness to reach out and take it. That's the very message I want to give the fans in Columbus, by putting your shoulders to mat, and showing all those people that come out to see Caged In that natural ability and star-power will only get you so far in this sport if you're not willing to advance yourself beyond those levels."
"Greatness isn't an entitlement; it has to be earned... and I don't care who your daddy is, you'll never silence the critics until you step up and prove them wrong. But I don't see that willingness in you, Andy, to be perfectly honest. You seem to already think you're on that level, and you never needed to do anything to earn that regard. You're more interested in letting fame come to you rather than going out and taking it for yourself. That's why you're in for a bad night at Caged In, and why I will reach that level of greatness before you."
(Gathering together the last of his belongings, he zips up the bag and slings it over his shoulder, making his way to the exit with the camera following.)
"And it's more than just watching tapes and taking notes that will get me there, Andy. For that matter, it's more than my own natural abilities, gifted to me by two prior generations of professional wrestlers with the last name 'Josten'. What is it then? You can't pin it all on one thing, though, because the truth is, it's everything. No one quality is 'throwaway' in my eyes. I try to be the best of what I am in every aspect... and I strive to make my only vulnerability to simply be the willingness to fight clean, and not make everything about personal vendettas."
(He respectfully nods to the graying old man working behind the counter before coming to a stop at the door, looking at the camera a final time.)
"I don't make warnings or threats unless warranted, Andy, so don't expect any of that out of me at this time. Only understand that I'm walking into that ring looking to answer for what many think I can't get done. You can dismiss all that motivation as inconsequential, but blind confidence won't help you once that bell rings. You can sell tickets... you can get all the ladies... but none of that is going to stop me from doing whatever it takes to drop you onto that canvas and pick up the three."
"Take a lesson from Dorothy: when the storm comes, you better get down and brace yourself... otherwise, it will blow you away."
(He steps through the door and we go to black.)
(FADEIN: The nation's capital... away from the glitz and glam of a desert oasis and into stark grittiness of an East Coast urban setting. Once again, the camera opens inside another local boxing club, although the culture and patronage looks remarkably different from the Irish-influenced, white-dominated gym back in Boston. Clearly, this isn't the place the tourists visit on their sight-seeing trips to D.C. But for some others, who aren't quite as bothered by racial tensions, it serves its purpose. Once again in a far corner, we find Erik Josten off to himself, apart from the regulars, occupying himself with a series of chin-ups on a bar set a couple meters off the ground. Beads of sweat roll down the young athletes back, implying that he's been at this for a while. By sheer irony, Pink Floyd's "Money" is playing on the nearby portable radio on the bench next to his stuff.)
"I'm beginning to learn... just how much... of a roller coaster... this business can be."
(He addresses the camera between reps, before finally reaching a limit and dropping to the floor. As he turns to show his face, we can see he's appearing without that usual youthful zest. Instead, his features have hardened to an expression of determination and steeled will.)
"I left Nashville after Brawl riding on Cloud Nine, feeling good about myself after a "victory" over whoever was Tristan Slater. Then arrived at Brawl in Detroit, where I was brought crashing back down to earth courtesy of a bitch like Nick Ryan. He knows that he can't face me straight up and beat me, so he attacks from behind. That's cool. But what really pisses me off is that he had to nerve to take MY TV title like it's his own. That's something he's isn't good enough to earn and he has it like he's a real champions."
(He shakes his head, pursing his lips briefly into a grimace as the sting of the attack hits him again.)
"I'm disappointed in myself. I should've been better prepared to expect that punk to pull something like that. I just have to keep chipping away, doing what I can to improve myself and prevent those mistakes from happening again. Better to learn that lesson now, than later down the line, when something potentially more valuable is at stake."
(His attitude softens as he speaks on the silver lining in the cloud, and briefly towels himself down before speaking to the camera again.)
"So I congratulate you, Nick Ryan... but understand that Monday night when you and I come face to face between those ropes, it's going to be a much different story. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to break you in half. Most importantly.. I'm going to retire you; and put you right on the shelf, right next to your worthless brother."
(He pulls from his Dojo-issued duffle bag the latest t-shirt out of WGWF's merch department: the new official Erik Josten t-shirt, blue in color with "No Excuses" emblazoned across the front in thick white strokes. Rocking his colors)
"But he's not the only one on my radar. Monday night, I'll also be standing across the ring from Andy Johnson-Page, a man who boasts gifted talents and star-power as his two greatest assets."
"Andy... allow me to begin by humbly recognizing your impressive qualities in natural ability and charisma. Judging by the company you're often seen in, you're clearly a man to be envied in those respects. And, perhaps that's why you've gained the favor of the fans and management... because they see in you a man who can use put God-given talents to use and make this company a lot of money in the process. If that's the path of life you choose, then power to you... the weight of a fine woman on your shoulder is nice, to be certain."
(He stops the portable radio in the middle of Roger Waters singing about money being the root of all evil, and stows it away in the bag.)
"Personally speaking, though... I don't know if feel it's as nice as holding up the weight of a championship belt, that was put there on your own determined effort."
"When it comes to my own level recognition, Andy, I feel it's a thing to be earned by focusing more on the sport, rather than the spectacle that 'superstar wrestlers' like you have made it out to be. I want people to come see me for the athlete that I am, rather than being a celebrity. I'll create my own star-power and fill those seats by leaning on those very qualities you so callously pass off as 'throwaway'. Practice, patience, perseverance... those things the hip, sarcasm-fueled pop culture of today's sports entertainment industry deem as vanilla. Certainly lacking in flair, but at the end of the day, for as boring as it all gets perceived, the fans still come out to see it, and they remember it when they go home."
"Those fans may look at you now, Andy, and wish they had the things you have... like you're a living constant reminder that they are all born to be losers. But I don't fly that way. I go into that ring to prove to those fans that champions aren't born; they're made. I want to inspire those fans to believe they can have anything they want, so long as they work hard and have the willingness to reach out and take it. That's the very message I want to give the fans in Columbus, by putting your shoulders to mat, and showing all those people that come out to see Caged In that natural ability and star-power will only get you so far in this sport if you're not willing to advance yourself beyond those levels."
"Greatness isn't an entitlement; it has to be earned... and I don't care who your daddy is, you'll never silence the critics until you step up and prove them wrong. But I don't see that willingness in you, Andy, to be perfectly honest. You seem to already think you're on that level, and you never needed to do anything to earn that regard. You're more interested in letting fame come to you rather than going out and taking it for yourself. That's why you're in for a bad night at Caged In, and why I will reach that level of greatness before you."
(Gathering together the last of his belongings, he zips up the bag and slings it over his shoulder, making his way to the exit with the camera following.)
"And it's more than just watching tapes and taking notes that will get me there, Andy. For that matter, it's more than my own natural abilities, gifted to me by two prior generations of professional wrestlers with the last name 'Josten'. What is it then? You can't pin it all on one thing, though, because the truth is, it's everything. No one quality is 'throwaway' in my eyes. I try to be the best of what I am in every aspect... and I strive to make my only vulnerability to simply be the willingness to fight clean, and not make everything about personal vendettas."
(He respectfully nods to the graying old man working behind the counter before coming to a stop at the door, looking at the camera a final time.)
"I don't make warnings or threats unless warranted, Andy, so don't expect any of that out of me at this time. Only understand that I'm walking into that ring looking to answer for what many think I can't get done. You can dismiss all that motivation as inconsequential, but blind confidence won't help you once that bell rings. You can sell tickets... you can get all the ladies... but none of that is going to stop me from doing whatever it takes to drop you onto that canvas and pick up the three."
"Take a lesson from Dorothy: when the storm comes, you better get down and brace yourself... otherwise, it will blow you away."
(He steps through the door and we go to black.)