Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 29, 2023 15:21:00 GMT -5
If there’s two things I love, it’s people sleeping on Spencer Adams.
..and waking them the fuck up.
One impressive showing.
Then it was one victory.
Then another.
Then War Fucking Games.
You can huff and puff about the way that match ended if you choose to, but history will show you that it was Spencer Adams who had the submission hold that helped Jim Caedus seal the deal. If you feel personally wronged or disgusted by what happened in that structure, I implore you to take a look at the men in charge of putting it all together who knew exactly what it was they were setting up by throwing the ten of us inside of those four walls and when you’re busy pointing the finger, just remember who it was that was rubbing palms together at the idea of ultraviolence translating to ratings.
Truth be told, there’s a whole Hell of a lot of you in the back who would’ve found anything they could have to dismiss the merit of someone like Spencer Adams anyways, because you’re fucking SCARED. You’re so goddamn terrified of the franchise being flipped on its head and drug behind my back like a kill taken away to the cave that you’re incapable of recognizing that Spencer Adams is doing this all without a single motherfucker in that front office telling him what he’s going to do with WGWF in the palm of his hand. Old weed man pulls absolutely no strings with me and I suspect that sparks jealousy when in all reality, what I’ve done is simple.
I liberated myself and in doing so, I’ve begun the process of doing the same for every individual in the back who feels froggy enough. I set the precedent and what I’ve shown in doing so, I’ve made myself that much better. There will be nobody over my head determining my worth or acting as an obstacle in my way. What you see now is talent on display and ability paying off and you know, I have to wonder..how close are we to the big red button? How many more Mac Banes and Mike Masons will I have to put down before papers and files get thrown in the air and everyone at corporate is running around like chickens with their heads cut off?
How..fucking..many?
Lissie’s bio premier was a success and as someone who’s gone up and down with her in our time knowing each other, it was satisfying to be able to be there and know that the two of us are in the place that we are now. There was no animosity from our time together and the fact that it’s gotten to a point where our friendship is one of unconditional trust felt really good. In an industry full of vultures, where there’s seemingly always at least one person out to get you, it’s nice to have that sort of substantive relationship.
Spencer: Really good, right?
Beyond the flash of the premier and the smile in public, I could tell that there was a weight between myself and Adilene as I glanced towards the passenger seat to be met with an almost blank expression in response. Though, I’d be lying if I said that this was the first. Mounting pressure? Time apart? The daily stress of being part of the same industry, but separate promotions? I’d almost found myself juggling more with mental and emotional perception than I did the uptick in workload.
Spencer: I feel like there’s something..
Adilene: You think?
Spencer: I know I’ve been…busy..
Adilene: Spencer, I don’t feel safe.
Spencer: What do you mean?
Adilene: I’d have thought that after everything you’ve been through, everything that you’ve opened up about, that you’d be more cautious.
Spencer: I have been.
Adilene: Spence. Dune tried to hurt you..like REALLY hurt you and I know how much that comeback meant to you, but willfully buddying up with Jim Caedus to go in and do..all that in Wargames? Letting a group of strangers follow you around without even so much as a thought to ask for a little bit more transparency between each other? You didn’t know about Ally Calaway, so what’s stopping the next person from popping in with some hidden agenda? Being tough doesn’t make someone bulletproof. You’re not invincible, Spencer Adams.
Spencer: I’ve spent the better part of four years paranoid..fearful..looking over my shoulder just in case somebody were to come hurt me or someone I love. It’s not healthy. I can’t keep doing that forever, Adi.
Adilene: You know nothing about these people!
Her tone cut through as a pain in the eardrum that burrowed its way in and settled into cloud formation. I did know them…or at least…I knew HER. I knew the blonde who let her hair cloak over both of our faces as she pressed up to me, her lips against my own. I knew awkwardness as I pushed away and found myself settling with that sinking feeling in my stomach everytime she spoke up amongst the group before and after matches and shows, still anonymous amongst them.
Adilene: You’ve got Bacchus there.
Spencer: He’s a busy man, too. He’s got his own shit to worry about.
Adilene: I’m not coming around on this!
Spencer: What are you asking me to do?
She slumped down, the right side of her face laid in the palm of the same hand.
“America
God bless you if it's good to ya
America, please take my hand
Can you help me underst—”
It’s worth asking what it is you’re in this for, Michael. Is there a real singular goal for you in the realm of WGWF outside of playing the part of the menace? Is it competition that REALLY fools you..or is it your personal stake in the occasional petty squabble or going for the gold in the bruised ego olympics? As an observer, you come across as little more than a caricature of the American right, the exact midpoint between MAGA talking points and terminally online incel trying in one way or another to get his dick wet, be it proverbial or physical.
If it weren’t for Mike Mason getting in the way of Mike Mason, maybe you’d be walking into Buffalo gleefully more armored around the midsection. After all, you have the all the physical attributes to put down somebody like Cholo, do you not? Do YOU yourself understand why it is that you’ve come to Spencer Adams and Mac Bane empty handed? It’s because your mental is so fucking clogged with comic villain side missions that when you have the objective in front of you, you become a smaller man, more the internal Mike Mason than the one that shows up in photos and matchup graphics.
When it’s time to wear realness on your sleeve and focus the fuck up, you fuck up. You fuck up, because you’d rather spend important moments asleep at the wheel, dreaming about how you’re going to ruin Lexi Gold’s life for not laying on her back for you or hyperfixating on how to execute grudge match orders underlined with dog whistle sentiments against certain members of this roster during pride month. For all your incoherent hollering and immoral grandstanding, you remain the most laterally moving talent maybe in this whole fucking business.
You’re stagnant, Mike.
I beat Mike Mason?
I emasculate Mike Mason to everyone who considers themselves a supporter.
In dropping you on your head, I get to kick back and watch you drop double digits in the polls. My job is simple. I force every flag waving, cringey bumper sticker driving moron in flyover counties to disown you. I take from you the illiterate minority who has ever looked at you and thought “I’d vote for’em” and in doing so, I leave you with nothing and what I send back to Lexi Gold will be an even greater husk than you were before. I guarantee her own revenge being that much easier, almost to the point of overkill, because it’s exactly what you deserve.
This part right here? Right now?
This is the part where you concede.
I wrapped my knuckles up against a locker room door amongst the noise of KeyBank Center’s backstage area, staring ahead at the centered nameplate near eye level.
JIM CAEDUS
I allowed myself a sloppy and shaky exhale as I waited for a response from the other end, but instead of a “Who’s there?” or a “Come in!”, the door swings open as I’m pulled in for a dap and way too tight hug.
Jim: Spencer motherfuckin’ Adams! S’pleasure, brother!
Spencer: Mind if I..?
Jim: Shit! After everythin’ you did for me? For Ly? For the whole team?! You know I gotcha, Spence.
Spencer: You and Lycana..you’re good, yeah?
Jim: Fer’now. Course, I only exercise a little appr’hension cause I’ve been around the block a few too many times ta’count at this point.
Spencer: What do you mean?
Jim: S’not a her thing, honest. It’s just that we ain’t exactly in the business of stability, ya know? One minute, everythin’ will feel real good and the next thing ya know, there’s some goddamn wrench thrown in the plan for no other reason then ‘ta come along and shit in my cereal and demand that I eat it down ‘ta the last drop.
Spencer: Graphic, but I…
Jim: Spence. What’s really on yer mind, man? Is everythin’ okay? Ya need help fuckin’ someone up, cause I’ll do that shit in a heartbeat.
Spencer: No…I’m good. You and Ly go out there and kill it tonight, alright?
Jim: Long as you promise to do the same, brother.
I offer up a sheepish grin as Jim extends for another quick embrace and with a shoulder turned away, I mosey back out into the chaos of interviews and last minute attire altercations, left mostly to my own thoughts. I wondered if he was right..if it really was just part of the process. After all, Jim had been run through the ringer in pro wrestling more than me or probably anybody else still breathing. Adilene and I would rebound from everything together. It was just a bump, right?
How many more gotchas is it gonna take, Mac? How many times do I have to have a go at teaching you this lesson before it sticks up top? Maybe you need to see it more up close and personal to understand that not only is Spencer Adams legit, but that Spencer Adams is a serious threat to how comfortable you’re allowed to be in WGWF. Maybe I do owe you a little bit of slack, a bit more patience than I previously deployed as I plowed through you and everyone else you’ve been willing to lie next to and take an ass whooping at the behest of.
In our previous encounters, you were afforded excuses and reasons to try to justify your dismissal and sleeping on me and what it is I can do between those ropes. First, it was Corey Black and CJ Phoenix and “home field advantage”, right? Then I came to YOUR front door and outlasted you and nine others, but neither of us were able to say that we had our hand raised after that final bell. Finally, we get to WarGames and we’re locked in there together. With every weapon and avenue of doing serious damage to Spencer Adams at your disposal, you just…didn’t.
With all those tools of ultraviolence at your disposal, you were once again outshined by Spencer Adams. With each encounter, we find ourselves closer to one another and as we’ve done so, I’ve stood my ground and played the part of a star and you’ve offered increasingly feeble clapbacks, because you fucking SEE that it’s coming. You’ve seen firsthand again and again that Spencer Adams IS that dude. Not some young pup rendered paralytic by the bright lights, but a vet in his own right who rises to each and every occasion even more headstrong and stubborn than yourself.
Where’s the out this time, Mac? With nobody on either of our sides, what will be the asterisks for Mac Bane when he finds himself in yet another match that Spencer Adams comes out the other end of with even higher prospects in the world of professional wrestling? How are you going to justify your stature when I’m knocking on your forehead and looking in those dilated pupils for a sign of self awareness? I think I speak for an ocean of bystanders when I say that the world is waiting on YOU, Mac, waiting on The Cowboy to pick between bending that knee and saying the words or proving me wrong for the first time in your professional life.
Maybe you can..
..but you won’t.
You can argue the size of the bodies of water…
..but you can’t deny the shark swimming in them.
I felt my fingers tremble as I slide the deadbolt guarding my Buffalo hotel room to the side before peeking out through the peephole at HER. Her sheepish smile filled my limited field of vision and I found myself pulling the door open almost numb to the situation in front of me.
Hey, thanks again for agreeing to this. I really just…I have some things I need to say.
As the door swung shut behind us, I retained my silence, zoning in and out of the conversation.
Spencer: That’s a bit extreme.
I guess I just..I mean you’re so fucking great. Not in like the fangirl sense, but just you as a person. You’re just…real and in that moment..I wanted that.
I smile as I turn my phone over in my hand, stirring the amber in my hand in a whirlpool motion inside the rocks glass.
Her voice was underwater, marbled and hardly resembling actual words. Scrolling through the messages, I feel my body heat rising as I look down at the conversation for what felt like the millionth time.
I’m done, Spencer.
This isn’t working out.
I’m moving back in with my parents this week.
I’m sorry.
With a lump in my throat, I let the glass fall from my grip and stand idle as it shatters at my ankles.
Spencer?..
The ringing in my ears fades and with a few steps out past the minefield of little shards, I feel that numbing feeling making itself at home inside of me.
The numbness courses and with the touch of her fingers against my back, I turn towards that sheepish smile and let go. I embrace HER, allow myself to close any gap between us and this time, there’s no pushing away. This time, it’s me pressing my lips against hers.