Post by TheNewBreed on Jan 26, 2024 21:29:47 GMT -5
“I got that Parole Hearing on Tuesday. I think I might have a pretty good chance to get approval this time.” a raspy, smooth baritone comes across the speaker in John’s office as Cable looks out over the city of Jacksonville far below.
“It’s about time. I mean, Hell... I’ve never had such a hard time making headway with such a shaky case in court before. It’s taken forever to finally get approval for the Hearing in the first place.” John says over his shoulder from the window in that gravely tone of his from under the silver filigree mask.
“Yeah. You know they ain’t tryin’ to help me do nothin’, John. The only thing they want from me is for me to finally shut the fuck up. Shit… we both know that isn’t gonna happen.” he man chuckles from the speaker.
“Yeah… that’d be the day, wouldn't it?” John laughs dryly at the man’s joke.
“Fuck you too, Buddy. You ain’t argue too much about me not being quiet when we were cuttin’ promos three or four times a week and you didn’t have time to be in front of the camera without missing a workout or three, you know? It’s a bitch trying to work around a schedule like you run, but you already know that. Hell… I bet you don’t even make arrangements yourself anymore, do you? You just have a guy that sets up all your shit and sends your schedule to your phone, huh?” the man in the speaker quips, laughing for a moment before realizing John’s silence was a telltale sign he wasn’t far off.
“Wait… for real? You got a guy that sends your schedule to your phone now?” the man asks, his curiosity piqued to extremes.
“Well not exactly, but something like that.” John hints at the truth, but doesn’t bring up R2. The little droid would be cause for a much longer conversation than this call would facilitate, and he knew Sebastian wouldn’t let it rest if he knew the truth about the Prophecy right this minute.
SSP needed to focus on the Parole Hearing right now, and not how he was the supposed savior of the entire timeline.
There would be plenty of time for that conversation AFTER he got out on parole.
“So… uh… you and the Crew gonna make it out here on Tuesday, right?” Sebastian asked, hesitantly through the speaker.
“Of course we are. What kind of question is that?”” John spun, staring at the speaker as he growled the words across the room.
“I was just asking… that’s all. I mean, you missed one before, so I didn’t want to assume anything this time around, you know?” Sebastian’s voice comes across the speaker sheepishly.
“You know I got a lot of shit going on, Sebastian. You even told me before that Hearing you didn’t think it was going to get approved, and it didn’t!” John raises his voice a little, defensive about missing the Hearing.
“I know, John. Chill. I’m just poking the Beast. You get all bristly whenever anyone even thinks about bringing your loyalty into question… geez. It’s just funny, Man.” Sebastian chuckles to himself over the speaker as John flops into his leather bound office chair with a sigh.
“It’s not funny… that’s the point.” John gruffly exclaims with a huff.
“Tristan sure thinks so… and to be honest… I kinda see what he likes about it.” Sebastian laughs again as John tosses a stack of papers into a bin on the side of his desk and stares at the speaker.
“Yeah, because I need another Slater in my life just saying shit to stir me up. Sure thing.” John says dejectedly, the conversation from the other day still weighing on him.
“Look… Slater might have been a douche about it, but he wasn’t wrong. You and Bane were basically playin tug o war on his nutsack and I wouldn’t have liked the implications you two were throwing around if it were me either.” Sebastian says calmly without fear of how John might take the statement.
“What the fuck does that even…” John starts to protest, but Sebastian cuts him off.
“You know exactly what I meant. ‘He’s my friend… he’s gonna pick me over you… nu uh… he’s my friend and he’s gonna drop you on your face when I tell him what you did…’ you both sound like a bunch of high school girly pops just about to break into a cat fight over the girl who’s clothes you borrow when you hang out. For fuck’s sake… I’m sure Bane's got a pair of jeans you both can get with his initials monogrammed on em or something.” Sebastian quips sarcastically over the speaker.
“It isn’t…” John starts, but Sebastian once more intervenes.
“Oh shut the fuck up, John. It was. We all saw it and Tristan called you out on your bitchy bullshit. Maybe he wasn’t as eloquent as you would have liked your highness… but he wasn’t wrong. You’ve been too hung up on numbers and ratings and being an investor. You forgot what that monster inside of you is like, and this week… at Last Chance… you better figure out how to wake him up for another little joy ride or Enigma is gonna chew you up and treat you like a high fiber breakfast. Trust me… I know what it’s like getting buried in the bullshit and losing sight of the trees for the leaves. If I had been paying more attention the Night Charles…” Sebastian starts to scold him now, but it’s John who interrupts this time.
“You weren’t responsible for his death, Sebastian. It happened. You weren’t sup…” John starts to comfort the man over the speaker before Sebastian cuts in again.
“What? We weren’t supposed to let him die, John? We weren’t supposed to take our eyes off the targets, and we weren’t supposed to lose him like that, John? Yeah… I know… but we still did, didn’t we? We still lost him and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how I could still be here with him if I hadn’t gotten distracted and hadn’t…” Sebastian starts to sob quietly mentioning that fateful night he lost his son.
“He knew the risks, Sebastian. He’d been on a hundred missions with you guys. It was a fluke acciden…” John starts.
“It wasn’t an accident, John. That mutherfucker shot him. He chose that… he looked down the sight, he pulled that fuckin trigger, and he ended Charle’s life… and he did it just because we showed up to take him in. Charles didn’t sign the warrant or do the crime that got that fucker caught up with the Leos in the first place. Charles didn’t do anything to that sumsabitch, but he sure paid the price for it, didn't he?. He was in the fucking truck, John… and sometimes… sometimes it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do… you still catch a bullet and die… and there ain’t no day after tomorrow on days like that.” Sebastian rambles manically, his mind swirling with thoughts he had been struggling with for a long time now.
A long moment of silence passes between them, John not sure what to say to his friend to soothe the pain of loss from long ago that weeps and bleeds like a fresh wound all these years ago, and Sebastian’s mind still swirling from the emotional distress before Sebastian speaks again.
“You don’t need another chance at this, John. You don’t. Just don’t fuck up the one you got if you’re only getting one. I know you… I know you’ve studied every inch of tape you can find, and you know him better than he knows himself. I know you’re ready for this shot. You were born ready for this. The real question here, John… do YOU know you’re ready, or are you waiting on someone else to tell you that you are?” Sebastian asks quietly over the speaker.
Moments pass as John stares at the brown mesh covering the speaker. His mouth starts to move beneath the mask, but no words come out. Again, his jaw moves, but nothing comes out.
“I’m gonna guess you’re still trying to figure that one out, huh, John?” Sebastian asks, prodding an answer from his friend.
“Yeah… I guess I am.” John finally whispers.
“Well… you’re running out of time, John, so you better figure out how many reps you need under the rack and how many laps you need to swim before Sunday to feel as ready as I know you are, and then figure out how to double em. Enigma ain’t an easy win here by any means… but you’ve fought tougher monsters in your sleep. You got this. I know you do.” Sebastian reassures him.
“Easy enough to say I guess. Fuck… you’re right, Seabass. I need to get my head out of my ass and buckle in for this ride though, and come Monday… I guess we’ll all know where I stand in the end, won’t we?” John says softly.
“You take care of business on Sunday, and I’ll see you guys on Tuesday.” Sebastian says through the speaker.
“Yeah. We’ll see you on Tuesday, Man.” John reassures him.
“Steaks are on you, right, Pal?” Sebastian chuckles as he asks.
“If you manage to get out of jail on Tuesday, Sebastian… you’re damned right they are. All the steaks are on me, buddy.” John laughs to himself as he stands up and walks back towards the overlooking view of downtown as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Well... Here we finally are, Mr. Monster Machine.
The big fight...
The showdown...
My first chance...
My only chance…
My Last Chance.
It sure does have that 'Big Fight Feel' to it, doesn't it? Big build up... Fancy contract signing... An odd-couples Tag Match... The Champ being strangely silent on the whole shebang...
It’s almost like you're distracted, Sev... or doubtful... maybe even a little fearful...
It’s almost like you know your whole focus has to go into this match or everything you've built over the last year goes up in a puff of smoke in an instant, and then what?
When I win... Do you tuck tail and revert back your old ways of subservience to a douche canoe of a leader over whatever faction happens to be paying lapdogs by the pound?
No... I think the writings on the wall already with your time as part of the Unfortunate Ones. You already ditched them to their fate with the local Leo's once, and your distaste with the antics of JMont and his ilk seems pretty self evident... but you’re a creature of habit, after all... and your penchant for servitude to the highest bidder is fairly prolific at this point. I would’ve hoped after the failures you've suffered following around far less talented men time and time gain in the past that you would have learned a thing or three by now, but sadly, it seems you find yourself once more the lapdog and never the kingpin, and I don't think you like the taste of it very much.
I really don't see that arrangement lasting very long... especially without the Title that makes you important to JMont anyway. Without the very thing he only sees as a status trinket... you're less than worthless to him, and I think you know it.
So... if not that... What? Do you come roaring back and snatch some other opportunity dangled before you by the office?
I really don't think any of the other titles in the WGWF hold a candle to what that SMASH Title means to you, Sev. I just can't see you being as invested in making a run at any other Title here if I'm honest, and I think you know that too.
That Belt means something to you... to us...
It's the last vestige of our friends legacy... and by holding it... you ensure that it can't be tarnished.
I get that... I do.
But realistically... it's even bigger than that, Enigma, and I don't think it's truly sunk in yet with you what all this REALLY means.
The SMASH Title is a WGWF Title now... and that legacy is even deeper than Smash, or you, or me... and now... it's bigger than even the WGWF with Civil War looming with the TPW.
The man who walks away with that Title isn't just holding Smash's Legacy in their hands... or the SMASH Title... they're holding the opportunity to climb into the ring against the WGWF World Heavyweight Champion AND the TPW International Champion and make sure the World knows what Title is THE TITLE to hold in our Industry! It’s a chance to make Smash’s Legacy even greater than it already is, and honestly Sev… There's only one man on this roster who knows what this really means.
So, Enigma... come the days that follow Last Chance... when you chose to dump the Unfortunate Ones on their face like they deserve, and there isn't another Title that holds the same allure as the SMASH Title, and I have finally taken that weight from your shoulders and gone on to make it mean what it should... do you actually take the break, buckle down and fix the shambles of the home life you've struggled to balance with the road life these last few years? Do you finally become the husband and father your family deserves? Do you put the Monster behind you, close the door on that chapter of your life, and build the bonds and presence in their lives they have been wanting from you this whole time?
God, Sev... I hope you do.
I would have given up so much to have what you have... what you take for granted... what you drag through hell for your own pride and vanity.
To have just known the love she gives you freely... to have my child look upon me and cherish me the way yours does... I would have traded it all, Sev... everything. Every moment of my life thus far and everything I have ever achieved... I would have given in an instant... for just a single second of what you fail to see the value in.
It's an easy choice... really.
Be there, be present and accountable to them... the ones that love you... the ones who suffer your arrogance... the ones who want nothing more than your time and attention... time and attention that is spent on the industry... inside those ropes... fighting... biting.. clawing... bleeding... all for the roar of the fans and a few scraps of paper printed with the faces of former presidents upon them... for the Glory... for the Titles... for the adoration of strangers... when the ones who love you wait patiently at home for you to return after every show... biding their time to gain your attention... both striving to make your time at home as stress free as it can be so that everyone can appear happy and hopeful, even if for a little while... knowing just under the surface is the rising tensions of a marital catastrophe just one more argument and a broken chair away from disaster.
You're not a good man, Sev... and you know it.
The guilt of it eats away at you... and we can all see it.
That Title, too, weighs on your soul, Enigma... but it won't be long before I lift it from your shoulders and carry it on to ensure the Legacy of our friend lives on in your absence. It's what he would want... to ease your suffering and allow you the time to make things right again with your family... finally.
Honestly, Enigma… I do try to be a good man… but I'm not a nice man, and I think everyone knows that by now. I've hurt many people. I've taken many lives. I've done untold damage to countless people... and every single time... it's because I had to... to protect others... to protect myself... to hold men like you accountable for their wicked ways... and given the choice to allow those people to continue to harm others or do it all over again... I would do it again every single time.
It doesn't make the burden of the choices I've made lesser, by any means... no... in fact, it makes the burden greater... greater because time after time I see the corruption of greedy men who try to take what they want with no regard for those who are hurt by the way the system was designed to fail them with no recourse and no accountability.
Over and over I see the strong take from the weak... the defenseless prostrated... helpless before those who should be defending them... and all the while I wish the world worked a different way... but it doesn't... so I do what I can to try to tip that balance back in favor of those who struggle to succeed and are snuffed out for having ambition and courage but lacking the strength and fortitude enough to endure the journey before them... constantly fighting a war of attrition that can never truly be won...
That kind of life really does weigh on a man, you know?
I know you do... I know the chains of sin hanging from your neck are far heavier than mine... but still I know the weight of them... and it burdens me just like it does you.
It's no wonder the words Tristan spoke resonated with me so much. They've clung to me all week... like another link in the chains... clanging and banging... distracting me from all else but the echo of them in my mind.
Yeah... I've been distracted too, Sev.
I've been hung up on the image the world has of me... and the image I portray for the company... and the sales numbers... and the rumor mill...
I've been focused on ensuring good TV, Sev... not on being the Beast that I am.
I thought about that long and hard... and a decade ago... John Cable wouldn't have done a bunch of in ring promos or fancy contract signings... the Beast would have stormed the ring and ripped your head off and taken the Title right then and there.
End of story.
The Beast would have heard the snide shit flying out of JMont's mouth on night one of the Brand Split and on night two, I would have made sure he had to have his jaw wired shut for three months.
A decade ago... Spencer Adams wouldn't have been a name on the short list of men who have taken a win over me this year... and Peter Vaughn wouldn't NOT be telling tales of how he almost lost his Title to me because I would have already been reigning over the WGWF as its Champion.
But I say all of that... how it used to be... how things were back when... to say this:
While I was contemplating the difference in me from then to now... I realized something.
My problem isn't that I want people to think I'm better than I am.
It isn't that I need to prove I haven't lost a step in my old age, either.
Hell... It isn't even that I'm over-hyped for my record.
No... it's that I have beat myself time and time again.
I've defeated myself before I ever climbed through the ropes because I wondered if I was as good as I thought I was. I wondered if I was over-hyped. I did think I needed to prove to the world and to myself that I haven't lost a step... and the more I thought about it... the more I realized that this isn't the match I thought it was.
This isn't you vs me.
This isn't the 'Monster Machine' Enigma vs Johnathan 'the Beast' Cable...
This is Cable vs Cable.
Hell... the bosses already know what this was about.
They named the damned Pay Per View after me.
They didn't call it the Mystery Box PPV...
They didn't call it Monster Madness...
They didn't call it Enigmanation...
They called it Last Chance...
My Last Chance...
My last chance to show them that I'm not a wasted investment.
My last chance to earn my place at the top of the WGWF.
My last chance to show myself and the rest of the world that I've still got it...
It's my last chance to wake up and realize that this match is just me vs me... and it always has been.
The best part is... with all of this at stake... The pressure isn't even on me to win the match.
It's all on you.
The entire weight of this match falls on you to win or lose, Sev…
The world expects me to choke. They expect me to get to the big match once again and fail to grab the Title dangling right in front of me.
They've seen it happen over and over again just this year alone.
If it happens... I'll get a congratulatory pat on the back and a bonus check for record gate totals. You'll barely get applauded and the world will treat you like you did your job, Champ.
Hell... you might even get a cookie.
But... WHEN I win, Enigma... it's an upset.
It flies in the face of the predictions and the speculations... it upends the status quo... rain will start falling upwards and dogs and cats will fall in love around the globe.
For the first time in a long time you're fighting a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain and you're holding all the cards... and even with all of that... you still wonder if you come out the other end still clinging to that Title.
I know that doubt all too well. I know that feeling crawling up your spine, Enigma... and it's the very thing that'll cost you the match and that Title, Sev.
I'm not coming to Last Chance to fight you anymore, Enigma... I'm coming to Last Chance to bury myself... to bury my doubt... to end the wondering for us all.
There's nothing left for me to fear, Monster Machine.
I have shed my doubt, I have found the Beast within, and I've devoured my own demon.
At Last Chance I'm coming to take my place as the Triple Crowned King of the WGWF, Enigma... and you're standing on MY hill wearing MY crown.
“It’s about time. I mean, Hell... I’ve never had such a hard time making headway with such a shaky case in court before. It’s taken forever to finally get approval for the Hearing in the first place.” John says over his shoulder from the window in that gravely tone of his from under the silver filigree mask.
“Yeah. You know they ain’t tryin’ to help me do nothin’, John. The only thing they want from me is for me to finally shut the fuck up. Shit… we both know that isn’t gonna happen.” he man chuckles from the speaker.
“Yeah… that’d be the day, wouldn't it?” John laughs dryly at the man’s joke.
“Fuck you too, Buddy. You ain’t argue too much about me not being quiet when we were cuttin’ promos three or four times a week and you didn’t have time to be in front of the camera without missing a workout or three, you know? It’s a bitch trying to work around a schedule like you run, but you already know that. Hell… I bet you don’t even make arrangements yourself anymore, do you? You just have a guy that sets up all your shit and sends your schedule to your phone, huh?” the man in the speaker quips, laughing for a moment before realizing John’s silence was a telltale sign he wasn’t far off.
“Wait… for real? You got a guy that sends your schedule to your phone now?” the man asks, his curiosity piqued to extremes.
“Well not exactly, but something like that.” John hints at the truth, but doesn’t bring up R2. The little droid would be cause for a much longer conversation than this call would facilitate, and he knew Sebastian wouldn’t let it rest if he knew the truth about the Prophecy right this minute.
SSP needed to focus on the Parole Hearing right now, and not how he was the supposed savior of the entire timeline.
There would be plenty of time for that conversation AFTER he got out on parole.
“So… uh… you and the Crew gonna make it out here on Tuesday, right?” Sebastian asked, hesitantly through the speaker.
“Of course we are. What kind of question is that?”” John spun, staring at the speaker as he growled the words across the room.
“I was just asking… that’s all. I mean, you missed one before, so I didn’t want to assume anything this time around, you know?” Sebastian’s voice comes across the speaker sheepishly.
“You know I got a lot of shit going on, Sebastian. You even told me before that Hearing you didn’t think it was going to get approved, and it didn’t!” John raises his voice a little, defensive about missing the Hearing.
“I know, John. Chill. I’m just poking the Beast. You get all bristly whenever anyone even thinks about bringing your loyalty into question… geez. It’s just funny, Man.” Sebastian chuckles to himself over the speaker as John flops into his leather bound office chair with a sigh.
“It’s not funny… that’s the point.” John gruffly exclaims with a huff.
“Tristan sure thinks so… and to be honest… I kinda see what he likes about it.” Sebastian laughs again as John tosses a stack of papers into a bin on the side of his desk and stares at the speaker.
“Yeah, because I need another Slater in my life just saying shit to stir me up. Sure thing.” John says dejectedly, the conversation from the other day still weighing on him.
“Look… Slater might have been a douche about it, but he wasn’t wrong. You and Bane were basically playin tug o war on his nutsack and I wouldn’t have liked the implications you two were throwing around if it were me either.” Sebastian says calmly without fear of how John might take the statement.
“What the fuck does that even…” John starts to protest, but Sebastian cuts him off.
“You know exactly what I meant. ‘He’s my friend… he’s gonna pick me over you… nu uh… he’s my friend and he’s gonna drop you on your face when I tell him what you did…’ you both sound like a bunch of high school girly pops just about to break into a cat fight over the girl who’s clothes you borrow when you hang out. For fuck’s sake… I’m sure Bane's got a pair of jeans you both can get with his initials monogrammed on em or something.” Sebastian quips sarcastically over the speaker.
“It isn’t…” John starts, but Sebastian once more intervenes.
“Oh shut the fuck up, John. It was. We all saw it and Tristan called you out on your bitchy bullshit. Maybe he wasn’t as eloquent as you would have liked your highness… but he wasn’t wrong. You’ve been too hung up on numbers and ratings and being an investor. You forgot what that monster inside of you is like, and this week… at Last Chance… you better figure out how to wake him up for another little joy ride or Enigma is gonna chew you up and treat you like a high fiber breakfast. Trust me… I know what it’s like getting buried in the bullshit and losing sight of the trees for the leaves. If I had been paying more attention the Night Charles…” Sebastian starts to scold him now, but it’s John who interrupts this time.
“You weren’t responsible for his death, Sebastian. It happened. You weren’t sup…” John starts to comfort the man over the speaker before Sebastian cuts in again.
“What? We weren’t supposed to let him die, John? We weren’t supposed to take our eyes off the targets, and we weren’t supposed to lose him like that, John? Yeah… I know… but we still did, didn’t we? We still lost him and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how I could still be here with him if I hadn’t gotten distracted and hadn’t…” Sebastian starts to sob quietly mentioning that fateful night he lost his son.
“He knew the risks, Sebastian. He’d been on a hundred missions with you guys. It was a fluke acciden…” John starts.
“It wasn’t an accident, John. That mutherfucker shot him. He chose that… he looked down the sight, he pulled that fuckin trigger, and he ended Charle’s life… and he did it just because we showed up to take him in. Charles didn’t sign the warrant or do the crime that got that fucker caught up with the Leos in the first place. Charles didn’t do anything to that sumsabitch, but he sure paid the price for it, didn't he?. He was in the fucking truck, John… and sometimes… sometimes it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do… you still catch a bullet and die… and there ain’t no day after tomorrow on days like that.” Sebastian rambles manically, his mind swirling with thoughts he had been struggling with for a long time now.
A long moment of silence passes between them, John not sure what to say to his friend to soothe the pain of loss from long ago that weeps and bleeds like a fresh wound all these years ago, and Sebastian’s mind still swirling from the emotional distress before Sebastian speaks again.
“You don’t need another chance at this, John. You don’t. Just don’t fuck up the one you got if you’re only getting one. I know you… I know you’ve studied every inch of tape you can find, and you know him better than he knows himself. I know you’re ready for this shot. You were born ready for this. The real question here, John… do YOU know you’re ready, or are you waiting on someone else to tell you that you are?” Sebastian asks quietly over the speaker.
Moments pass as John stares at the brown mesh covering the speaker. His mouth starts to move beneath the mask, but no words come out. Again, his jaw moves, but nothing comes out.
“I’m gonna guess you’re still trying to figure that one out, huh, John?” Sebastian asks, prodding an answer from his friend.
“Yeah… I guess I am.” John finally whispers.
“Well… you’re running out of time, John, so you better figure out how many reps you need under the rack and how many laps you need to swim before Sunday to feel as ready as I know you are, and then figure out how to double em. Enigma ain’t an easy win here by any means… but you’ve fought tougher monsters in your sleep. You got this. I know you do.” Sebastian reassures him.
“Easy enough to say I guess. Fuck… you’re right, Seabass. I need to get my head out of my ass and buckle in for this ride though, and come Monday… I guess we’ll all know where I stand in the end, won’t we?” John says softly.
“You take care of business on Sunday, and I’ll see you guys on Tuesday.” Sebastian says through the speaker.
“Yeah. We’ll see you on Tuesday, Man.” John reassures him.
“Steaks are on you, right, Pal?” Sebastian chuckles as he asks.
“If you manage to get out of jail on Tuesday, Sebastian… you’re damned right they are. All the steaks are on me, buddy.” John laughs to himself as he stands up and walks back towards the overlooking view of downtown as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
“If you were half as good as you want everyone to believe you might be carrying Championship gold versus constantly chasing it.”
~ Tristan Slater
~ Tristan Slater
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
Well... Here we finally are, Mr. Monster Machine.
The big fight...
The showdown...
My first chance...
My only chance…
My Last Chance.
It sure does have that 'Big Fight Feel' to it, doesn't it? Big build up... Fancy contract signing... An odd-couples Tag Match... The Champ being strangely silent on the whole shebang...
It’s almost like you're distracted, Sev... or doubtful... maybe even a little fearful...
It’s almost like you know your whole focus has to go into this match or everything you've built over the last year goes up in a puff of smoke in an instant, and then what?
When I win... Do you tuck tail and revert back your old ways of subservience to a douche canoe of a leader over whatever faction happens to be paying lapdogs by the pound?
No... I think the writings on the wall already with your time as part of the Unfortunate Ones. You already ditched them to their fate with the local Leo's once, and your distaste with the antics of JMont and his ilk seems pretty self evident... but you’re a creature of habit, after all... and your penchant for servitude to the highest bidder is fairly prolific at this point. I would’ve hoped after the failures you've suffered following around far less talented men time and time gain in the past that you would have learned a thing or three by now, but sadly, it seems you find yourself once more the lapdog and never the kingpin, and I don't think you like the taste of it very much.
I really don't see that arrangement lasting very long... especially without the Title that makes you important to JMont anyway. Without the very thing he only sees as a status trinket... you're less than worthless to him, and I think you know it.
So... if not that... What? Do you come roaring back and snatch some other opportunity dangled before you by the office?
I really don't think any of the other titles in the WGWF hold a candle to what that SMASH Title means to you, Sev. I just can't see you being as invested in making a run at any other Title here if I'm honest, and I think you know that too.
That Belt means something to you... to us...
It's the last vestige of our friends legacy... and by holding it... you ensure that it can't be tarnished.
I get that... I do.
But realistically... it's even bigger than that, Enigma, and I don't think it's truly sunk in yet with you what all this REALLY means.
The SMASH Title is a WGWF Title now... and that legacy is even deeper than Smash, or you, or me... and now... it's bigger than even the WGWF with Civil War looming with the TPW.
The man who walks away with that Title isn't just holding Smash's Legacy in their hands... or the SMASH Title... they're holding the opportunity to climb into the ring against the WGWF World Heavyweight Champion AND the TPW International Champion and make sure the World knows what Title is THE TITLE to hold in our Industry! It’s a chance to make Smash’s Legacy even greater than it already is, and honestly Sev… There's only one man on this roster who knows what this really means.
So, Enigma... come the days that follow Last Chance... when you chose to dump the Unfortunate Ones on their face like they deserve, and there isn't another Title that holds the same allure as the SMASH Title, and I have finally taken that weight from your shoulders and gone on to make it mean what it should... do you actually take the break, buckle down and fix the shambles of the home life you've struggled to balance with the road life these last few years? Do you finally become the husband and father your family deserves? Do you put the Monster behind you, close the door on that chapter of your life, and build the bonds and presence in their lives they have been wanting from you this whole time?
God, Sev... I hope you do.
I would have given up so much to have what you have... what you take for granted... what you drag through hell for your own pride and vanity.
To have just known the love she gives you freely... to have my child look upon me and cherish me the way yours does... I would have traded it all, Sev... everything. Every moment of my life thus far and everything I have ever achieved... I would have given in an instant... for just a single second of what you fail to see the value in.
It's an easy choice... really.
Be there, be present and accountable to them... the ones that love you... the ones who suffer your arrogance... the ones who want nothing more than your time and attention... time and attention that is spent on the industry... inside those ropes... fighting... biting.. clawing... bleeding... all for the roar of the fans and a few scraps of paper printed with the faces of former presidents upon them... for the Glory... for the Titles... for the adoration of strangers... when the ones who love you wait patiently at home for you to return after every show... biding their time to gain your attention... both striving to make your time at home as stress free as it can be so that everyone can appear happy and hopeful, even if for a little while... knowing just under the surface is the rising tensions of a marital catastrophe just one more argument and a broken chair away from disaster.
You're not a good man, Sev... and you know it.
The guilt of it eats away at you... and we can all see it.
That Title, too, weighs on your soul, Enigma... but it won't be long before I lift it from your shoulders and carry it on to ensure the Legacy of our friend lives on in your absence. It's what he would want... to ease your suffering and allow you the time to make things right again with your family... finally.
Honestly, Enigma… I do try to be a good man… but I'm not a nice man, and I think everyone knows that by now. I've hurt many people. I've taken many lives. I've done untold damage to countless people... and every single time... it's because I had to... to protect others... to protect myself... to hold men like you accountable for their wicked ways... and given the choice to allow those people to continue to harm others or do it all over again... I would do it again every single time.
It doesn't make the burden of the choices I've made lesser, by any means... no... in fact, it makes the burden greater... greater because time after time I see the corruption of greedy men who try to take what they want with no regard for those who are hurt by the way the system was designed to fail them with no recourse and no accountability.
Over and over I see the strong take from the weak... the defenseless prostrated... helpless before those who should be defending them... and all the while I wish the world worked a different way... but it doesn't... so I do what I can to try to tip that balance back in favor of those who struggle to succeed and are snuffed out for having ambition and courage but lacking the strength and fortitude enough to endure the journey before them... constantly fighting a war of attrition that can never truly be won...
That kind of life really does weigh on a man, you know?
I know you do... I know the chains of sin hanging from your neck are far heavier than mine... but still I know the weight of them... and it burdens me just like it does you.
It's no wonder the words Tristan spoke resonated with me so much. They've clung to me all week... like another link in the chains... clanging and banging... distracting me from all else but the echo of them in my mind.
Yeah... I've been distracted too, Sev.
I've been hung up on the image the world has of me... and the image I portray for the company... and the sales numbers... and the rumor mill...
I've been focused on ensuring good TV, Sev... not on being the Beast that I am.
I thought about that long and hard... and a decade ago... John Cable wouldn't have done a bunch of in ring promos or fancy contract signings... the Beast would have stormed the ring and ripped your head off and taken the Title right then and there.
End of story.
The Beast would have heard the snide shit flying out of JMont's mouth on night one of the Brand Split and on night two, I would have made sure he had to have his jaw wired shut for three months.
A decade ago... Spencer Adams wouldn't have been a name on the short list of men who have taken a win over me this year... and Peter Vaughn wouldn't NOT be telling tales of how he almost lost his Title to me because I would have already been reigning over the WGWF as its Champion.
But I say all of that... how it used to be... how things were back when... to say this:
While I was contemplating the difference in me from then to now... I realized something.
My problem isn't that I want people to think I'm better than I am.
It isn't that I need to prove I haven't lost a step in my old age, either.
Hell... It isn't even that I'm over-hyped for my record.
No... it's that I have beat myself time and time again.
I've defeated myself before I ever climbed through the ropes because I wondered if I was as good as I thought I was. I wondered if I was over-hyped. I did think I needed to prove to the world and to myself that I haven't lost a step... and the more I thought about it... the more I realized that this isn't the match I thought it was.
This isn't you vs me.
This isn't the 'Monster Machine' Enigma vs Johnathan 'the Beast' Cable...
This is Cable vs Cable.
Hell... the bosses already know what this was about.
They named the damned Pay Per View after me.
They didn't call it the Mystery Box PPV...
They didn't call it Monster Madness...
They didn't call it Enigmanation...
They called it Last Chance...
My Last Chance...
My last chance to show them that I'm not a wasted investment.
My last chance to earn my place at the top of the WGWF.
My last chance to show myself and the rest of the world that I've still got it...
It's my last chance to wake up and realize that this match is just me vs me... and it always has been.
The best part is... with all of this at stake... The pressure isn't even on me to win the match.
It's all on you.
The entire weight of this match falls on you to win or lose, Sev…
The world expects me to choke. They expect me to get to the big match once again and fail to grab the Title dangling right in front of me.
They've seen it happen over and over again just this year alone.
If it happens... I'll get a congratulatory pat on the back and a bonus check for record gate totals. You'll barely get applauded and the world will treat you like you did your job, Champ.
Hell... you might even get a cookie.
But... WHEN I win, Enigma... it's an upset.
It flies in the face of the predictions and the speculations... it upends the status quo... rain will start falling upwards and dogs and cats will fall in love around the globe.
For the first time in a long time you're fighting a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain and you're holding all the cards... and even with all of that... you still wonder if you come out the other end still clinging to that Title.
I know that doubt all too well. I know that feeling crawling up your spine, Enigma... and it's the very thing that'll cost you the match and that Title, Sev.
I'm not coming to Last Chance to fight you anymore, Enigma... I'm coming to Last Chance to bury myself... to bury my doubt... to end the wondering for us all.
There's nothing left for me to fear, Monster Machine.
I have shed my doubt, I have found the Beast within, and I've devoured my own demon.
At Last Chance I'm coming to take my place as the Triple Crowned King of the WGWF, Enigma... and you're standing on MY hill wearing MY crown.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *