Post by King Incredible on Feb 17, 2014 7:58:47 GMT -5
The emergency lights inside an empty gymnasium flicker and turn on bringing just enough light for people to see. A bigger spotlight turns on and in the middle of the gym is the ring and the House of Mirrors. The big blue doors open up about thirty yards away and I walk out of them in my wrestling attire; big black boots, black and red trunks, knee and elbow pads, and black leather fingerless gloves. I make my way to the ring where the sight of a banner saying ‘Welcome to Wichita East High School’ can be faintly seen high on the gym wall. I open the big metal door to the House of Mirrors, examining every inch of steel and glass. I slide my hand on one of the pods that had steel chairs and road signs inside of it before entering the ring and going to the middle. I look off in the distance.
“Mirrors,” I began, “a mirror says a lot about a person. The reflection of a mirror is a very powerful thing. The reflection of a mirror shows exactly who you are. A mirror doesn’t lie like your buddies and acquaintances. A mirror tells you the truth and a mirror shows you for who you truly are. When I look in the mirror I see the vice’s I commit like drugs, alcohol… but I also see a man who is in tip top shape and has the confidence to face any challenge he gets.”
I stop and take a breath. I go towards the corner ring post and sit on top of one of the pods that is holding more weapons of destruction.
“The mirror can also reflect things other than body image. It can reflect attitudes and beliefs and make you either confirm or question those things. When I see myself in the mirror I see a man who wants nothing more than to step inside this ring and destroy his opponent for the one thing in this world he loves. The one thing he lusts over. The one thing he can’t get out his head and the one thing he desires over anything else… Gold.”
I get down from the pod carefully and head over to another pod and break the glass with my leg. Only a hole is broken and my pant leg gets caught in one of the sharp pieces. I try to bring my leg back but it’s stuck.
“Cut!”
“FUCK!” I yelled enraged, “this is the second fucking time this has happened! You guys need to get thinner glass- ow my fucking eyes!”
The lights to the rest of the gymnasium blindly turn on and a production crew is revealed with cameras and wires and all the crew to operate them. A man with a hammer comes into the set and knocks the rest of the glass out and makes sure I didn’t cut myself.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” I said shooing the guy away, “just fucking replace it quick so I can get on with the day to do more important things.”
I walked out of the House of Mirrors and started to walk off the set for a smoke outside but the director of the little promotion can up to me in all his wondrous over the top screaming “hey look I’m as gay as can be” outfit.
“Listen Ian,” the director said calmly, “you are doing FABULOUS… it’s just the glass is not co-operating but don’t you worry sir I will have it fixed. Also, we will just start from you getting off the pod to go the title because you were great.”
“Thank fuck,” I said, “now go be glamorous somewhere else I got to smoke a couple darts.”
“Of course sir!”
The director skipped away as thoughts of me beating the shit out of him came to mind. I go outside to the fucking snow of Minnesota, revealing that we’re doing a promo quickly in the gym before Massacre tonight. I took out my lighter and began to light my cigarette.
“Can I get a light… sucka?”
My face went from total boredom to total disgust as I turned and saw none other than President Dean in a nice white suit walk up to me. He held out his swisha sweet cigar as I sighed and lit his cigar.
“So that’s why you can’t pay me first class plane rides,” I laughed, “you deck yourself out in expensive Armani suits, eh?”
“Even if I could afford you first class plane rides,” Dean scolded, taking a puff, “I wouldn’t be giving them to you. You ain’t got class.”
“Excuse me?” I said, turning to him and flicking ash onto his coat, “says the black man in a white suit. And why the fuck do you got me doing this stupid shit inside the gym for?”
“I got you doing this ‘stupid shit’,” Dean mocked, “because of what you did last week in trashing my office last week. You got talent kid but I don’t put up with that shit at all. It took them the rest of the night to clean the food and the sticky pop and juice from the floor and I had to pay extra to make sure the gym was in tip top shape for the next day. I should take that out of your pay.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I barked, flicking the bum onto the ground and stomping on it.
“And you’re lucky that I can’t,” Dean pointed, “regulations that protect your sorry asses prevent me from doing just that. Listen, I’d love to stay and chat with you about how much of an asshole you are but I got shit to do to make this PPV perfect. Thanks for the light and good luck tonight and Sunday, sucka.”
Dean nods his head goodbye as he heads towards the taxi that just pulled up to get him. I started to light another cigarette as Dean put his briefcase in the backseat and starts to get in.
“Hey Dean,” I yelled, as Dean turned his head around to see, “go fuck yourself!”
Dean smirks and shakes his head as he climbs into the taxi and the taxi drives away onto the road and off into the distance. I shake my head in disgust as I continue taking my smoke. All of a sudden I hear a bell ring loudly and then it dawned on me; it was lunch time at the high school. While I continued to smoke teenagers with a lot of acne came out of the school heading for their cars and the burger joints around the area. A group with leather jackets were walking by me and they noticed who I was.
“Holy hell…” One exclaimed, “that’s Ian Bishop from OCW.”
“You mean that prick?” A girl asked, “the one who’s been beating up Brianna Casablancas?”
“Yep that one,” another said, “they’re in the main event of their online PPV that’s taking place in Kansas on the weekend.”
‘Hey you fucking idiots,” I yelled out, “I can hear everything you’re saying.”
The group of three turned around as I motioned with my hand for them to come over. They looked a bit nervous as they ran over and hurdled around me.
“What is this a football huddle?” I asked, “give me some fucking breathing room.”
“Sorry,” the girl said as they moved to the left, leaning up against the brick wall, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m substituting gym class,” I sarcastically said, “no, we’re shooting an online spot and it will run on local TV in Kansas about the PPV Resurrection.”
“If I may,” the red-head male said, “can I get an autograph?”
“Are you for real?” I exclaimed, “how old are you, six?”
“Why are you so uptight?” the other male asked, “and why do you got a beef with Casablancas?”
“I got beef with Casablancas because management felt highly of her,” I said, throwing my other cigarette bum on the ground, “and that was wrong. I didn’t understand why management would want to make their image of a small puny British bitch who likes to talk to steel chairs all day and give people awful medical advice. I thought to myself, ‘I am sexy, and incredible’, it should be me. That’s why I went out two weeks ago and flattened her for all the Internet to see. To show everyone that she was not the type—“
“But didn’t she kick your ass a week ago?” The girl laughed as her buddies acknowledged her awful comeback, “how did that work for you?”
“Don’t worry your fragile minds about that” I said, getting in her face, “I’m gonna whoop her ass in tag action tonight and give her a prescription of her own medicine...”
“What exactly do you mean?” the non-red head said, “she seems like anything could send her off the deep end.”
“Kid,” I said, “I am damn hoping she goes off the deep end so she can start irrationally thinking and making poor choices and the people who watch OCW and management can finally see for herself that she is a good for nothing ding-a-ling. Mad hatter. Strange duck. Psycho-bitch!”
“Ok we get it,” the red-head laughed as the school bell rang as lunch was over. “Shit guys, we never got anything to eat.”
“Let’s just chill here with him,” the girl said, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“The only way I wouldn’t mind is if your dudes left, you went with me back to my motel and took your pants off—“
“That’s my fucking girlfriend,” the red head yelled, “and how old are you, you sick freak?”
“OK kids fuck off before I go tell your principal you were smoking crack and shit,” I waved, “go on get!”
The three kids ran off back to school as I laughed and headed back into the gymnasium. I noticed the glass was almost replaced. I headed over to the refreshment counter and grabbed a drink of ginger ale and a few ham sandwiches. I engulfed the last one down as my phone rang. I looked down and noticed it was X calling me. I ignored the number not wanting to speak to him but the bastard persisted and call me back. I picked up the line in anger.
“Why the fuck are you calling me?” I asked.
“WHY DID YOU PUNCH ME?” he screamed, “AFTER I BROUGHT YOU INTO MY HOME AND MADE YOU FOOD AND SUCH. WHY?”
“OK, I admit, that was not a good decision,” I acknowledged, “but you said some pretty hurtful and stupid things and it pissed me off... and you’re still fired.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” X screamed so loud I had to move the phone away from my face, “YOU WOULDN’T EVEN BE IN THIS MATCH WITHOUT ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT! I AM GONNA COME FIND YOU AND TAKE YOU OUT.”
“Good luck with that,” I laughed out loud as my phone beeped, “listen I got another call coming through so I’m going to block your number and don’t ever try to contact me again, ok?”
I hung up the line X was on and answer the other.
“Mr. Incredible speaking…”
“So,” the voice said, “he contacted you too?”
I paused for a moment not knowing who this was.
“Who’s calling?” I asked but then realized, “oh wait I know! Nevermind! So, it’s not just me.”
“Not at all” the voice laughed, “are you ready?”
“Hell yes I am.” I exclaimed in excitement, “listen I can’t talk Dean has got me doing some stupid promo, I’ll call you back soon.”
“Sure.”
I hung up the phone as I got back into the ring and got back on top the pod. The director silenced the whole crew as the lights went dead besides the spotlight and the emergency ones. I got off the pod and walked towards the pod with the title. I take my foot and this time break the entire glass panel shattering everywhere. I go inside and grab the OCW Central Championship and bring it out to the center of this ring.
“Brianna,” I called out, staring into the camera inside the set, “you claim that this doesn’t mean a damn thing to you, this belt, and you’ve said you don’t care about the win… all you care about is the thrill of it all. The rush. Let me tell you something. I want this gold. I want the glory. I didn’t bust my ass off for years on end so I can have fun and just do it for the thrill. No. So be prepared for what’s going to happen on Sunday, February 23rd… we’ll both walk into the House of Mirrors but rest assured talent, you will not be walking out champion or be walking out at all. You’ll be up on a stretcher yet again while I hoist… the Central Championship… because I’m THAT… incredible.”
“Cut!” the director yells, “that was MARVELOUS sweetie.”
“Two things,” I said, walking out of the ring, “don’t fucking call me sweetie again and two, tell Dean the next time he wants to waste my time tell him he can kiss my white ass.”
I leave the gymnasium as I cross the parking lot of the school and head for the road. I hail a cab and get in and tell him where I’m going. I was done for the afternoon before the show and couldn’t wait to go home to snort some beautiful coke.
“Mirrors,” I began, “a mirror says a lot about a person. The reflection of a mirror is a very powerful thing. The reflection of a mirror shows exactly who you are. A mirror doesn’t lie like your buddies and acquaintances. A mirror tells you the truth and a mirror shows you for who you truly are. When I look in the mirror I see the vice’s I commit like drugs, alcohol… but I also see a man who is in tip top shape and has the confidence to face any challenge he gets.”
I stop and take a breath. I go towards the corner ring post and sit on top of one of the pods that is holding more weapons of destruction.
“The mirror can also reflect things other than body image. It can reflect attitudes and beliefs and make you either confirm or question those things. When I see myself in the mirror I see a man who wants nothing more than to step inside this ring and destroy his opponent for the one thing in this world he loves. The one thing he lusts over. The one thing he can’t get out his head and the one thing he desires over anything else… Gold.”
I get down from the pod carefully and head over to another pod and break the glass with my leg. Only a hole is broken and my pant leg gets caught in one of the sharp pieces. I try to bring my leg back but it’s stuck.
“Cut!”
“FUCK!” I yelled enraged, “this is the second fucking time this has happened! You guys need to get thinner glass- ow my fucking eyes!”
The lights to the rest of the gymnasium blindly turn on and a production crew is revealed with cameras and wires and all the crew to operate them. A man with a hammer comes into the set and knocks the rest of the glass out and makes sure I didn’t cut myself.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” I said shooing the guy away, “just fucking replace it quick so I can get on with the day to do more important things.”
I walked out of the House of Mirrors and started to walk off the set for a smoke outside but the director of the little promotion can up to me in all his wondrous over the top screaming “hey look I’m as gay as can be” outfit.
“Listen Ian,” the director said calmly, “you are doing FABULOUS… it’s just the glass is not co-operating but don’t you worry sir I will have it fixed. Also, we will just start from you getting off the pod to go the title because you were great.”
“Thank fuck,” I said, “now go be glamorous somewhere else I got to smoke a couple darts.”
“Of course sir!”
The director skipped away as thoughts of me beating the shit out of him came to mind. I go outside to the fucking snow of Minnesota, revealing that we’re doing a promo quickly in the gym before Massacre tonight. I took out my lighter and began to light my cigarette.
“Can I get a light… sucka?”
My face went from total boredom to total disgust as I turned and saw none other than President Dean in a nice white suit walk up to me. He held out his swisha sweet cigar as I sighed and lit his cigar.
“So that’s why you can’t pay me first class plane rides,” I laughed, “you deck yourself out in expensive Armani suits, eh?”
“Even if I could afford you first class plane rides,” Dean scolded, taking a puff, “I wouldn’t be giving them to you. You ain’t got class.”
“Excuse me?” I said, turning to him and flicking ash onto his coat, “says the black man in a white suit. And why the fuck do you got me doing this stupid shit inside the gym for?”
“I got you doing this ‘stupid shit’,” Dean mocked, “because of what you did last week in trashing my office last week. You got talent kid but I don’t put up with that shit at all. It took them the rest of the night to clean the food and the sticky pop and juice from the floor and I had to pay extra to make sure the gym was in tip top shape for the next day. I should take that out of your pay.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I barked, flicking the bum onto the ground and stomping on it.
“And you’re lucky that I can’t,” Dean pointed, “regulations that protect your sorry asses prevent me from doing just that. Listen, I’d love to stay and chat with you about how much of an asshole you are but I got shit to do to make this PPV perfect. Thanks for the light and good luck tonight and Sunday, sucka.”
Dean nods his head goodbye as he heads towards the taxi that just pulled up to get him. I started to light another cigarette as Dean put his briefcase in the backseat and starts to get in.
“Hey Dean,” I yelled, as Dean turned his head around to see, “go fuck yourself!”
Dean smirks and shakes his head as he climbs into the taxi and the taxi drives away onto the road and off into the distance. I shake my head in disgust as I continue taking my smoke. All of a sudden I hear a bell ring loudly and then it dawned on me; it was lunch time at the high school. While I continued to smoke teenagers with a lot of acne came out of the school heading for their cars and the burger joints around the area. A group with leather jackets were walking by me and they noticed who I was.
“Holy hell…” One exclaimed, “that’s Ian Bishop from OCW.”
“You mean that prick?” A girl asked, “the one who’s been beating up Brianna Casablancas?”
“Yep that one,” another said, “they’re in the main event of their online PPV that’s taking place in Kansas on the weekend.”
‘Hey you fucking idiots,” I yelled out, “I can hear everything you’re saying.”
The group of three turned around as I motioned with my hand for them to come over. They looked a bit nervous as they ran over and hurdled around me.
“What is this a football huddle?” I asked, “give me some fucking breathing room.”
“Sorry,” the girl said as they moved to the left, leaning up against the brick wall, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m substituting gym class,” I sarcastically said, “no, we’re shooting an online spot and it will run on local TV in Kansas about the PPV Resurrection.”
“If I may,” the red-head male said, “can I get an autograph?”
“Are you for real?” I exclaimed, “how old are you, six?”
“Why are you so uptight?” the other male asked, “and why do you got a beef with Casablancas?”
“I got beef with Casablancas because management felt highly of her,” I said, throwing my other cigarette bum on the ground, “and that was wrong. I didn’t understand why management would want to make their image of a small puny British bitch who likes to talk to steel chairs all day and give people awful medical advice. I thought to myself, ‘I am sexy, and incredible’, it should be me. That’s why I went out two weeks ago and flattened her for all the Internet to see. To show everyone that she was not the type—“
“But didn’t she kick your ass a week ago?” The girl laughed as her buddies acknowledged her awful comeback, “how did that work for you?”
“Don’t worry your fragile minds about that” I said, getting in her face, “I’m gonna whoop her ass in tag action tonight and give her a prescription of her own medicine...”
“What exactly do you mean?” the non-red head said, “she seems like anything could send her off the deep end.”
“Kid,” I said, “I am damn hoping she goes off the deep end so she can start irrationally thinking and making poor choices and the people who watch OCW and management can finally see for herself that she is a good for nothing ding-a-ling. Mad hatter. Strange duck. Psycho-bitch!”
“Ok we get it,” the red-head laughed as the school bell rang as lunch was over. “Shit guys, we never got anything to eat.”
“Let’s just chill here with him,” the girl said, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“The only way I wouldn’t mind is if your dudes left, you went with me back to my motel and took your pants off—“
“That’s my fucking girlfriend,” the red head yelled, “and how old are you, you sick freak?”
“OK kids fuck off before I go tell your principal you were smoking crack and shit,” I waved, “go on get!”
The three kids ran off back to school as I laughed and headed back into the gymnasium. I noticed the glass was almost replaced. I headed over to the refreshment counter and grabbed a drink of ginger ale and a few ham sandwiches. I engulfed the last one down as my phone rang. I looked down and noticed it was X calling me. I ignored the number not wanting to speak to him but the bastard persisted and call me back. I picked up the line in anger.
“Why the fuck are you calling me?” I asked.
“WHY DID YOU PUNCH ME?” he screamed, “AFTER I BROUGHT YOU INTO MY HOME AND MADE YOU FOOD AND SUCH. WHY?”
“OK, I admit, that was not a good decision,” I acknowledged, “but you said some pretty hurtful and stupid things and it pissed me off... and you’re still fired.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” X screamed so loud I had to move the phone away from my face, “YOU WOULDN’T EVEN BE IN THIS MATCH WITHOUT ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT! I AM GONNA COME FIND YOU AND TAKE YOU OUT.”
“Good luck with that,” I laughed out loud as my phone beeped, “listen I got another call coming through so I’m going to block your number and don’t ever try to contact me again, ok?”
I hung up the line X was on and answer the other.
“Mr. Incredible speaking…”
“So,” the voice said, “he contacted you too?”
I paused for a moment not knowing who this was.
“Who’s calling?” I asked but then realized, “oh wait I know! Nevermind! So, it’s not just me.”
“Not at all” the voice laughed, “are you ready?”
“Hell yes I am.” I exclaimed in excitement, “listen I can’t talk Dean has got me doing some stupid promo, I’ll call you back soon.”
“Sure.”
I hung up the phone as I got back into the ring and got back on top the pod. The director silenced the whole crew as the lights went dead besides the spotlight and the emergency ones. I got off the pod and walked towards the pod with the title. I take my foot and this time break the entire glass panel shattering everywhere. I go inside and grab the OCW Central Championship and bring it out to the center of this ring.
“Brianna,” I called out, staring into the camera inside the set, “you claim that this doesn’t mean a damn thing to you, this belt, and you’ve said you don’t care about the win… all you care about is the thrill of it all. The rush. Let me tell you something. I want this gold. I want the glory. I didn’t bust my ass off for years on end so I can have fun and just do it for the thrill. No. So be prepared for what’s going to happen on Sunday, February 23rd… we’ll both walk into the House of Mirrors but rest assured talent, you will not be walking out champion or be walking out at all. You’ll be up on a stretcher yet again while I hoist… the Central Championship… because I’m THAT… incredible.”
“Cut!” the director yells, “that was MARVELOUS sweetie.”
“Two things,” I said, walking out of the ring, “don’t fucking call me sweetie again and two, tell Dean the next time he wants to waste my time tell him he can kiss my white ass.”
I leave the gymnasium as I cross the parking lot of the school and head for the road. I hail a cab and get in and tell him where I’m going. I was done for the afternoon before the show and couldn’t wait to go home to snort some beautiful coke.
