Baltimore: West McFadden vs K-Remix vs Arthur Vail/McKay

[Jana Rikar]

1 RP / 1750 Words
Deadline is 8/29 Noon EDT
Thanks!

[K-Remix]

8/11/2017  

I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as I looked down at the two packets of paper that sat in front of me on the kitchen table. One is an official contract offer from Defiant Wrestling while the other is my self typed roster information that I had been putting together for weeks in preparation for this day. Nerdy? Perhaps but I've been waiting my entire life for this day so who cares?   

Suddenly I hear the front door open, something else that I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime for but in reality it's been about two hours. The door closes followed by the sound of footsteps until finally my father walks into the room and immediately glares at me.   

So you're going through with this huh?   

Ever since I was little I've been telling him that I wanted to be a wrestler and ever since I was little he's been telling me that I can do whatever I want when I'm 18. Which is basically just your parents' way of telling you no and hoping you lose interest by the time you're old enough to actually do it.   

Did you actually think that I wouldn't?   

You never know, miracles happen every day.   

Well not today, I want you to look this over for me.   

I slide him the DWF contract, I wanted him to make sure everything was legit before I signed it. I've heard horror stories and if anybody could find something wrong in a contract then it was my father. I'm pretty sure the devil tried to buy his soul once and he ended up leaving with the devil's soul and a blender in exchange for a pack of gum after the negotiations were over.   

I watch as he picks up the contract and scans through it seemingly at a lightning pace, he nods his head, and puts it back down on the table.   

There's no clauses saying you can't compete in any other federations which some places like to pull so you've got options if you want em. The money is a little low by my standards but you're going to have to pay your dues before anybody really opens up the checkbook for you. If you want to sign it then sign it but before you do…  

I whip out a pen and sign the contract before he can say another word. He can't help but shake his head and laugh.   

Eh, it was worth a shot.   

Like me asking to drive the Ferrari?   

EXACTLY like you asking to drive the Ferrari, only I had better odds of stopping you from signing than you ever have of driving the Ferrari.   

That's cold bruh.   

That's life bruh, hey, if that's the contract, what's this?   

He picks up my roster information and begins looking it over.   

Million Dollar Remix? Million Dollar Plex? Throwing Shade? All you did was take all my finisher's and trademarks then put a different spin on them.   

Well yeah, I'm K-Remix.   

He exhales deeply and rubs his temples with his palm covering his face.   

Why? Why can't that stupid alias just die? I'm a nice guy, you know, like 10% of the time, I don't deserve this kind of punishment.   

Think of it this way, from now on nobody will think of you as K-Remix, they'll think of me.   

Yeah, that doesn't make me feel much better.   

You'll see, this shit is gonna be lit, I promise you.   

Whatever you say, I do have one question though. Zero Chill? That hasn't been changed at all.   

Yeah, I thought about doing it off of the top rope but while it's doable it's not exactly practical. I mean if it ain't broke don't fix it right?   

Says a guy who just changed a move set that carried me to multiple hall of fames.   

True but that was like 100 years ago, they needed some new hotness thrown on em.  

Oh? You wanna go down to the gym right now so I can remind you what my 100 year old moves can do to you?  

Let's do it, I've got your number this time. 

Remember kid, I taught you everything you know, you don't know everything that I know yet. Come on, I'll let you drive the Ferrari to celebrate your signing.   

My heart skips a beat.   

Really?   

HELL NAH, GO GET YOUR ASS IN THE PASSENGER SEAT.   

Welcome to my life.   

8/28/2017 

I don't have a wealth of experience that I can draw upon like West McFadden. I don't have a tag team partner living in my head that I can tag in when the going gets tough like Arthur McKay. I do have a pet pig named Tocino though, that's kinda cool. I've also got great hair, my cologne collection is massive so I smell amazing, and my fashion sense speaks for itself. For real ya'll, I be dressin. None of that really has anything to do with actually wrestling but ya boy is single so I figured I'd just put all that out there. But I guess the real question is what do I have going for me that can help me win this match right?   

Well, on paper, not a damn thing. QUE!?!?! Yes you heard me, you actually heard a wrestler speak the truth. That's no small feat, that's like a politician telling the truth. I deserve a damn medal for this or something, hell I'd settle for some KFC coupons. See I told you guys at The Bash that the only person that I can be is me and there isn't much filter between what goes on in my head and what comes out of my mouth. My brain is already seemingly doing two billion things at any given moment so trying to tell and remember a bunch of lies probably wouldn't end well for me. That's why what I'm going to give you is the unadulterated truth. On paper there isn't really one thing that I can point to and say that's it, I'm going to win because of that. The thing is, matches aren't won or lost on paper.   

I know everybody has heard that old line about having a plan until you get punched in the mouth. Luckily for me about 70% of my wrestling training revolved around my 6''3 250 pound father punching me in my damn mouth. The funny thing is, it's exactly what I signed up for. From the time I was 10 years old I would look my father straight in his eyes and tell him that I wanted to be a wrestler. Cute right? I thought so anyway, he was my hero and I wanted to be just like him, he absolutely hated it. He didn't want me anywhere near this business because he said he didn't travel all across the country putting his body on line in order to watch his children do the same thing. The more I told him I wanted to be a wrestler, the more he hated it. Then to my surprise the day I turned 16, he took me to his gym and he asked me if I still wanted to be a wrestler.   

As soon as the word “yes” escaped my lips, he beat the shit out of me. I'm not even exaggerating, it was a whole lot closer to child abuse than it was wrestling training. By the time he was done with me and we got home that night, I was able to drag myself to my bed and that's all I remember. He worked me over so bad that I didn't wake up for school the next day, he woke me up the next day around noon asking if I was ready for more training. I said yes and the cycle continued like that for five days. He kept me out of school, took me down to the gym, and beat my ass for five days. Then on the sixth day he asked me if I was ready for more training and when I said yes, he looked at me, shook his head, and said “Fine, I'll train you for real”. He beat me down for five days because he wanted me to quit, because he wanted better things for me, and because he wanted me to be better than he was. The problem with that is I wanted to be a wrestler, I wanted to do better things than he did as a wrestler, and I wanted to be better than he ever was as a wrestler.   

So, why am I going to win this match at TNT? First of all, I'm not just going to win it. I'm going to win it in such a fashion that it's going to be the only match on the card that anybody talks about. Why? Because I have a fire burning inside me that can't be matched and damn sure can't be measured on paper. I've had it since I was a kid sitting at home watching my dad on television, I had it when he tried to beat me into giving up my dreams, and as I take my first step towards chasing his legacy, I've still got it.   

With all that wrapped up in a nice sparkling bow all that I have left to do is address my opponents one more time. West McFadden, you can bring all the experience you want because at the end of the day, all it's going to help you do is experience a loss. Arthur McKay, you can bring all of the personalities with you that you want because at the end of the day that's just more people that I get to beat in my debut. Question for the higher ups though, the more personalities he brings to the ring, the more I get paid for winning the match right? RIGHT?!?!?

[west]

-Off Camera-

“Baltimore,” McFadden growled as he stared out from the terminal glass at the small, private jet chartered by his manager, Brant Ryder. He clawed at a phantom itch on his neck nervously and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Fuck planes.”

His manager lowered the newspaper he skimmed casually to his lap and cast him a curious glance. “Take your medicine?”

McFadden nodded as his hand touched the large glass pane in front of him. He could feel the eerie coolness against the sweat that had welled in his palms. “It takes about an hour,” West replied distantly as he watched the ground crew finish their routine inspection, cleaning, and preparations for pre-flight boarding.

“I’d offer you a drink too--but--I need you as coherent as possible when we touch down,” Ryder sighed. He placed the newspaper atop the table to his left and lifted his fedora from the chair to his right.

West nodded once again before turning away from the terminal window and slung his duffel over his shoulder. He was a man of few words--very few to be matter of fact. It was a quality his manager had always admired aside from his hard work and dedication. There simply wasn’t another person quite like him.

Ryder approached him and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re gonna be golden, baby--just breathe through it.” Placing his hat atop his dark brown hair, Ryder brushed the lint from his suit and straightened his tie. “For what it’s worth--” Ryder began though his words seemed to die out as his client sulked several paces ahead of him. A short lived smile crossed Brant’s face instead. Mumbling to himself, “--it is the safest way to travel.” He shook his head and quickly followed suit behind his client as they made their way to the exit to ground level.


I'ma be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedly
And all those who look down on me I'm tearing down your balcony




-On Camera-
“Debuts--how many of these have I had now? I honestly can’t remember at this point--the way this business goes--you’re here today and gone tomorrow. Like a dream you’re just waiting to wake up from--and it’s always the same. You walk in a nobody and you make your way up or out--simple as that. I said I wasn’t gonna wrestle again--said I was done with the politics behind it and the aggression that turns good men and women bad. Yet--here we are again,” McFadden sighs and rubs his nose before sinking back in the director’s chair he’s uncomfortably sitting.

“And it feels like all I do is keep giving the same speech to deaf ears--no matter where I am or how many years pass. New faces--same words. I’ve heard it all--like a broken record that won’t stop skipping over the same damn part. It’s exhausting--but what can I do? Doesn’t matter who gets thrown at me--they always come gun cocked ready to blast it--while I’m just trying to get my feet back on the ground. Respect is hard earned in this business--you could literally save an empire and they’d spit on you the second you fail them. Like that--.”

McFadden snaps his fingers and leans forward, placing his elbows atop his thighs.

“Agree to disagree--that’s about all you can do when you’ve got a new enemy at your throat every step of the turn--and you just gotta push forward and accept it. You can’t please everyone--and you’re a fool for even thinking that you can bring a water bottle to a wildfire.Cause that’s what this is--that’s what it’s always been--and it’s been hard as hell to face that fact.”

He sniffs and nods to himself before continuing. “And no matter what you’re always the underdog in the end--cause they’ll find something to hold against you. Your looks--your record--your past--they dangle it like fish bait waiting for you to bite.”

He laughs halfheartedly to himself before slumping back in the chair. “--just keep selling my soul to stay somebody’s champion--and I just keep dragging myself through this over and over again--expecting the people around me to change--when really I’m the one who needs to take a step back and face reality. I don’t come out here swinging insults--or promises I can’t keep. I keep it real cause real’s all I know. People talk--they spit out all these fancy words to boost their ego or mine--and it’s just noise. I’ll make more waves with my hands than I’ll ever do with my mouth. You’d think that’d be a redeemable quality--but when they come--they come hard--and it gets past even the thickest of skin.”

“Experience--it’s handy--yeah,” West continues. “--gives you the advantage of both success and failure--but it don’t make a man. The one thing that’s been hammered into my head since the day I stepped foot into a camp was that you’re only as good as your last fight. We all fall from grace at some point--and your ego is not a safety net. I admire the spirit in my opponents. I respect the road they’ve gone down to get here--and the effort they’ve put into the sport because--that is what makes a man.His fight. Cause as long as he has it--you can’t extinguish that flame. Some just burn a little brighter than others.”

He cracks his knuckles on each hand respectively before speaking again. “I’m not trigger happy by any means, kid--but I come out that gate like a rodeo bull ready to deny you your eight seconds of fame. Cause this is what I do--it’s what I’m good at. I fight for myself--for the little guy--for the people--for the fight. Don’t matter who or what’s the motive--I don’t go down easily. I don’t like losing no more than any other Joe Schmo--but I also know victories don’t offer too many learning experiences. No promises--just facts. I’m not here to play games with you two--I’m here to fight--so when you come at me--you come at me hard--because if you hesitate for even a minute second--I will pounce on that weakness like a starved animal and tear into you. No holds barred--because I live and breathe and bleed this sport more than any other asshole I know. That I can attest to. Go big--or go home, boys. I didn’t travel across the country to tuck tail and drag myself back to Vegas without giving my very last breath--and a paycheck ain’t as satisfying as that rush--when all eyes are on you and you know--that that moment it’s either fight--or flight--and I hate flying.”


And I just can't keep living this way
So starting today, I'm breaking out of this cage
I'm standing up, I'ma face my demons
I'm manning up, I'ma hold my ground
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now!