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Nope
Topic Started: Jan 15 2016, 12:59 AM (202 Views)
Aries
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"Nope"

From Sean Aries to Don Pecker and Manik Mercer


To Whom it may Concern

So originally I was just going to chuckle about this letter I read and brush it off like it was nothing. But, since I'm currently stuck at a Wolfgang Puck Express trying to stomach a lukewarm chicken and cheese stromboli, I may as well entertain myself while I wait for my flight.

Don, I've been sitting here contemplating what you've said and you have a very valid point. You DID cost Mercer the match at Christmas Carnage. I watched you run right down to the ring, chair in hand ready to pick up the assist for your boy's big win over some ancient dinosaur they call a PRW Veteran. (BTW Im 29, so old. So wrinkly. All that arthritis up in my bones and stuff.) I can't deny that, there's physical proof and I witnessed it with my own two eyes. Me saying any different would brand me a liar and well, that's just not my motif.

My problem lies with your certainty that Mercer would have won.

I'm a firm believer that our actions dictate our future, and I'm not too proud to say that Mercer is a killing machine that was able to get up from everything I was throwing at him. I respect that, a lot. It's not the size of the fighter, but the fight he has in him. From my personal experience, Mercer could take a shot from an M1 Abrams tank and tell the gunnery sergeant inside that he better start reloading. But then again, even the slickest infantry man with a spare grenade and a set of brass ones could take out the same artillery if he knows how to pick his spots.

Mercer can stop a tank shell with his face, but I was the one who pulled the pin, and dropped that grenade down that tanks barrel. I walked away from Carnage with a W because you blew my window of opportunity wide open. If you haven't picked up on my gravity son, you may have "helped" me with the match, but you're the only one to blame for Mercer's loss. Not him, not me. It was all you, and your desire to ride that boys coattails just a little bit longer. So the question is would I have still won if you hadn't interfered? Will we ever find out? We won't know, we won't ever know if Mercer would have gotten one over me that night, and the only person who should be answering for that, is YOU, Donald Pecker.

It gets better though, because shortly after that match what did you do? You dropped all ties with him. When you both decided you being his manager wasn't best for his career, who made the call? Was it Mercer who was justifiably angry about being screwed by his own manager? Or.. was it you? Because you saw that you could no longer skitter by under Mercer's skirt and milk HIS rightfully earned glory. When I saw you disappear from his side after his Internet title lost, I wasn't shocked in the least.

But.. oh, you want to give him advice and keep being his friend? That's just as bad as telling your ex you'll keep in touch. Sure to some degree you mean it, but at the same time you're already texting her easy blonde friend and letting her know you're single and on your way over. You saw that Mercer had flaws, you decided to leave before others saw them too.

No offense Donnie, but that's something a piece of shit leech does in this business.

Mercer,

You I can be right to the point with, I like that. I'm not here to waste your time so I'll get right to brass tacks.

Does the guy who married Tsuki sound like someone you'd take advice from? Before he was coaching you about "Da Biz", he was egging Nox to put a ring on her finger.. look how that turned out for both of them.

Before you, Don was a key piece to a stable of unmentionables who were so far down on the totem pole that they showed up to shows in the back of a U-haul full of tech equipment. After Don joined the fray, whatever push they had seem to just.. disappear. Once again, this man wants to give you "advice."

Listen, you can sit here and pout and think I'm a terrible person who wants to hold you back from having a stellar career that you still are just starting. But that couldn't be farther from my intentions. Do you remember our match? When that crowd when berserk when you caught me off guard and just started to wail on me? Those people want to see you fight. I want to see you fight. Everyone who pays a ticket is coming to see the same thing. They want guys, like me and you, to try and destroy one another from bell to bell.

I love it.

So when I was told I'd be going up against one of PRW's most profitable rookies, I never saw it as a chance to reclaim my status. I don't need to do that. I could show up in a pink kimono with a blue wig and hand out pamphlets for the Westboro Baptist Church and someone will still think I'm the greatest wrestler here. I've earned that. What I saw, was a chance to push some of the younger guys who were looking for a challenge. The most I can do is tell you that matches aren't just strength and skill, there's truly a psychology to this business that you have yet to even scratch the surface of.

When Don Pecker walloped you with that chair, and I went for the pin. I wanted you to learn that sometimes, shit just doesn't go in your favor. You can be the meanest guy in the locker room with the ability to throw a dumpster through a brick wall, but sometime, somewhere, someone will get the best of you.

The only thing you can do is remember, and recover.

So, Mercer, if you want to keep getting advice from the guy who thought YOU needed HIS help, by all means, follow the path you wish to lay out for yourself.

If you want to learn something from a guy who has been put through the ringer and has had the worst of the worst thrown at him, you can find me in Texas. I'll buy you a drink, we can laugh about Christmas Carnage, and I can get that voice of doubt to stop screaming at you in your head.

What I'm trying to say is;

Sorry, but I'm not sorry.

:)

-Sean Aries


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