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Hurt; RP 2 Vs. Disturbed
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Topic Started: May 1 2011, 01:23 AM (194 Views)
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Deleted User
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May 1 2011, 01:23 AM
Post #1
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Deleted User
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Journal Entry
I've been here in England for about a week now and things aren't so hot right now, both literally and figuratively. The change in the weather has caused me to become ill, and of course there was the extreme time change to deal with, not to mention the fact that I'm stuck in place right now with Legion and NEW.
Alot of things have been changing since Terry Queens has taken over. Supposedly, he's put together some stipulations when he took control of half of the company. Right now, he's got a Number 1 Contender in mind for the World Title. As much as I'd like to take my shot, regardless of the fact that Dean Jones is the champ and it would cause one hell of a rift inside of Legion, I seriously doubt he'd think that this course of action would be appropriate. Of course, its hard to read such a weird guy. And he probably has no clue as to how displeased I am with my station. I work alone, and I always have. I don't need the support of Legion, and I never will. But Terry Queens isn't a mind reader. I had better talk to him, provided he'd even be willing to do so.
As for my opponent for this week, Disturbed has had several ups and downs in his time here, both personally and professionally. Former tag champ with Randy, and a TV champ by taking said title away from Randy. But there is his past, and Outkast trying to open that wound. His focus isn't on me at the moment, but rather to his love, Shamaya, and his mortal enemy, Outkast. I'm not really looking forward to the match. Not because Disturbed is so dangerous, or unpredictable, or out to prove something, but mainly because this isn't the challenge I'm looking for. Perhaps I need another Bombtrack to face off against. Another villain to make my life worthwhile in the ring. Disturbed does not fit that category. Monsters are just that, monsters. Once defeated, they become just another casualty in a maelstrom of destruction that has crossed my path. I need a true villain, or perhaps a hero, I could care less. The challenge is what makes this job worthwhile, and thus far, this has become boring.
As for the people of England, they're much more pleasant than I initially figured they would be. What I was expecting was rude, unruly hooligans like I see in those soccer gangs I hear about, but rather everyone has been respectful at signings and meet and greets that we've all been mandated to attend. I guess its just the wrestlers from the United Kingdom who are douchebags. But whatever. I'd enjoy my stay more if I wasn't so damn sick.
One thing that has kept me balanced is the fact that I can attend AA meetings here when not tasked by Hank or NEW. Even while ill I've managed to attend a few meetings. They're much more different than in the United States, and most of the people attending are not mandated, but are here of their own volition, so the meetings are more animated. I've even met a nice young woman here, though ironically enough, she's not British, but Mexican. Why she's here, I have no clue. She's not even an alcoholic, but rather a survivor of an alcoholic. Why she would want to be in the presence of so many alcoholics is beyond me, but afterwards we grabbed some coffee and talked about our past.
I looked back at my past over that cup of coffee and realized that I didn't have it bad growing up. My father was a heavy drinker, but worked hard on the ranch. I busted my ass on that ranch as a kid, and its probably the reason why I grew to be so big. My father was 6'5" and weighed about 300 pounds, while my mom, and her dainty 5'5" 120 pound frame somehow birthed me, came from a set of big people. My grandfather was 6'8", though a scrawny man from what I could remember of him. How I became a sufferer of this disease is beyond me. My father doesn't drink anymore, and my brothers were never big on drinking alot. My sisters were, but they were not out of control like I was and am. I'm a bull in a china shop, to say the least, and I fight the urge to drink here, with the access to booze so readily available, along with all the stouts and scotch all around me...
Nathan feels hands on his broad shoulders, as a woman kisses him on the neck and asks...
Janet: What are you writing?
Nathan: My journal entry. I have more to write, but I can't remember it all. I've been sick most of this week, so there hasn't been much to do, except go to all the stuff that I have to go to for NEW, and the meetings.
Janet: Yeah, I know. So you're here in the UK for how long?
Nathan: Until June, I think. I go back to the States after London Brawl.
Janet: Well, we've got time then. I could always go back to the US though. Airline work is great like that.
Nathan: Yeah...
Janet: What's wrong? You're not as talkative today.
Nathan: I just have this match later on tonight, and I'm so not motivated to do my best. This guy doesn't pose an immediate threat to me in any way. He's bigger than me, but its not like I've faced bigger. But my title isn't on the line, this guy would rather face someone else, which plays to my advantage, and his head is out of the game. I can already forsee that this isn't going to be my best match, or his, for that matter.
Janet: Somedays things come easy, and somedays things don't come at all. But if you're not worried, then why let it get to you now?
Nathan: I got a video to shoot later, and I'm so not looking forward to it. I don't hate the guy, and he isn't a threat to me, so I really have nothing to say on the matter. I'm sure Legion would, but...
Janet: Legion? Oh yeah, that group of guys you wrestle with.
Nathan: Don't remind me... But yeah.
Janet: At least Terry Queens isn't going to try to screw with you like he has with just about everyone else in Legion.
Nathan: I'm not exactly the most willing participant in Legion, and I think he might know that. If not, then he will at some point shortly. Especially if I win the Brawl. Some people have already geared me to be a favorite to win that match. Probably because I beat all those guys in that Key to Excellence match, but then again, there is also a bunch of people in that match that are former World Champions, like Jimmy Helmsley and maybe Rig X. And who knows who else may show up to this match. Troy Turner, perhaps?
Janet: You may have to cross that bridge when you get to it. But until then, what time is your video?
Nathan: I got a few hours...
Janet: Then bring your sexy ass over here and do me like I need to be done.
Nathan: I don't have a problem with that...
Nathan gets up and leaves the journal open, as he picks Janet up in his arms and begins to make out with her. At this point, the screen does a time-forward with the shadows moving across the page and the daylight falls from the picture and a lamp illuminates the journal once again, until we see a shadow fall upon the book once again, as Nathan picks up the pen and begins to jot down what has transpired in the last few hours as "Hurt" by Johnny Cash plays in the background...
So yeah, about that scotch. I'll get back to that...
So I went and did my interview, but not before I caught this song by Johnny Cash on my iPod. It raised such an emotion from me that by the time Thumper got to me for my interview, I was all fired up and I let everyone have it. Even Legion, so there goes my job security. Travis came up to me after he saw the promo and said how grateful I should be that I'm in such a dominant stable inside of the company and I wouldn't have gotten my shot at the North American title had I not been in Legion, which is a load of shit, but I kept my mouth closed for this. And he ended it by saying I'm on thin ice and I better not fuck with him, blah blah blah...
As for Disturbed, I let that oversized retard know where his place is, and that's right under my boot. I'll be damned if that giant excuse for a moron goes and talks as much shit as he does because he's pissed off at some other asshole so he's going to make me an example? Yeah, he can go shit in his hat, because I let it be known that when it comes to who's in the ring, I'm the toughest bastard in this match, and he better take his shit down a notch before I fuck him up so bad that his dead mother won't recognize him. I don't give a good goddamn about him, or his past, or his future, or his girl, or his shoe size, I'm going to go into that ring and fuck him up, point fucking blank. And that goes for anybody stupid enough to come to the ring, including Outkast, or Bombtrack, or The General, or whoever! I'm sick of just about everyone in this fucking company that anybody wants to cross my path this week is just going to get a specialty from me, a knuckle sandwich, Blast from the Past, and if something is close enough I can climb onto and hit them with it, some Death from Above may be suitable. I'm not in a good fucking mood, and I'm about to let everyone know when I'm having a bad day, you all can pray to whatever fucking God you worship that I don't rip your head off, shit down your neck, and bleed you to death. I'm in a fighting mood, and Disturbed is on the chopping block tonight.
Fuck that asshole...
Nathan tosses down his pen and grabs his bag off of the bed, then he turns off the desk lamp, and then everything goes black...
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