Post by PIC on Jun 16, 2022 9:50:34 GMT -5
.::Anger. Such a powerful emotion. It makes even the kindest, level-headed of us make the worst of decisions. We are warned about it in nearly every medium imaginable. Jesus says to not let the sun go down on your wrath. Yoda says it’s caused by fear and that it leads to hate and suffering. The warning signs of how it can consume us are everywhere, and yet, when it rears its ugly head, there’s little we can do to stop it from taking over. This past Monday, I allowed myself to get as angry as I have been in a very long time. Jace Parker Davidson attacked me backstage. He chose to, on the night my daughter was in attendance for the very first time, try to humiliate me and end my career. I thought the match at Reformation would revolve around my story of redemption. I thought my mission to bring championship gold back around my waist, to step into the ring with two of today’s best and emerge victorious, would be all the motivation I would need. But then…anger. It can cause a man to do unspeakable things, and now, Jace Parker Davidson…I’m angry. Maybe I shouldn’t let the sun go down before I resolve it, and maybe I should quench it before it leads to hate and suffering… or maybe, just maybe, I’ll let it course through my veins. Maybe I’ll let it fester. Maybe I’ll let it take full control of my mind, body, and emotions and focus every single ounce of it toward you. Maybe, just maybe… this anger will be used to make you suffer.::.
—JUNE 16, 2022 | Brooklyn, NY—
~The scene opens on an overcast summer afternoon on the exterior of the Barclays Center, the setting for this past Monday’s Massacre. We then cut to various other familiar site’s in Brooklyn. Prospect Park. The iconic Brooklyn Bridge. The Greenwood Cemetery. Many more locations are shown in the montage before ultimately landing on two individuals walking down Flatbush Avenue… a man and a woman. The man is wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap with sunglasses. The girl, a few inches shorter, is dressed in a black and white polka dotted sundress with a grey and orange patterned overcoat. She has on knee high black boots and her long blonde hair wisps in the air as the wind blows by.~
Sarah: Where are we headed again?
Amick: I told you, there’s this great little restaurant in Little Haiti I want you to try out.
Sarah: Is it close? I wish you would have told me we had to walk a long way to get there. I wouldn’t have worn these boots.
~Amick chuckles.~
Sarah: What?
Amick: I thought you’ve lived in New York long enough to know you can’t go anywhere without walking. Maybe you’re not such a New Yorker after all.
Sarah: New Yorkers take the subway!
Amick: What? And miss out on this fantastic weather? You don’t get many overcast summer days like this in New York.
~Sarah gives him a wry look before cracking a smile. Amick reaches over and puts his arm around her, pulling her close as they continue walking.~
Amick: I’ve missed this.
Sarah: Me too.
Amick: It’s just up ahead. We’ll take a left up here on Clarendon and then the restaurant is just a few blocks further. It’s either on 29th or 30th, I can’t remember.
.::Have you ever heard the expression, “just a walk in the park”? According to the Cambridge Dictionary, it is a common idiom used to describe something that is easy and typically very pleasant to do. I think about expressions like this all the time. Where do they come from? How have they become so common in our vernacular? Maybe I’m weird. I’m willing to accept that. Never have really went with the flow in society or found myself on the leading edge of the trends. To me, there’s something so freeing when you don’t feel obligated to conform to what others think you should be. It’s probably one of the reasons I’ve grown to respect Dylan Thomas as much as I have. Since joining OCW, he’s consistently…here comes another idiom… marched to the beat of a different drum. He doesn’t operate or make decisions based on the opinions of others. He, along with the rest of his A-List group, pretty much do as they please and seem to enjoy life in the process. I admit I was caught off guard when he’s the one who came to the ring this past Monday to address me, but what he said made a lot of sense. Everything, that is, except his comparison of my ascension here in OCW to that of riding a wave. Dylan, I’ll give you that to the casual observer what I’ve been able to accomplish here in such a short time could appear to be a hot streak, or beginner’s luck, or as you put it…riding a wave that inevitably will come crashing down. But Dylan, this isn’t my first rodeo. Just because the world isn’t so familiar with Amick Dogeron doesn’t make me some wide-eyed rookie in need of a reality check. I had championship gold around my waist years before most of the OCW roster was in high school. The title “Newcomer of the Month” only pertains to OCW, not wrestling. So while I appreciate the kind words and the advice, allow me to give you some of my own. On Sunday, June 26, live for the world to see, I’m going to step into the ring with you and Jace Parker Davidson and ride a wave all the way to Savage Championship gold.::.
~We cut to the inside of an airplane during beverage service. Two flight attendants are operating carts, one at the front of the plane and one at the back both working toward the middle. At the very front, siting alone in his row in first class, sits a black gentlemen in a gray suit. His hair is cut short and face cleanly shaven. Behind him sit two similarly dressed men, both sleeping. The flight attendant, white…slender with brown hair and several years his senior, approaches.~
Flight Attendant: Excuse me sir, what can I get you to drink?
The Somalien: Eh, I will have… rum and Coke. Yes?
Flight Attendant: Of course.
~She busies herself getting the drink together.~
Flight Attendant: That’s such a unique accent. Do you mind me asking where you’re from?
The Somalien: I am Somali, but…my business has taken me to Djibouti.
Flight Attendant: Oh, wow! I’ve never been to either of those places. Africa, right? Oh it just breaks my heart when I see those TV commercials about feeding the children. Is it really as bad as they make it out to be?
~The Somalien sighs but keeps up the fake smile as best as he can.~
The Somalien: The children where I am from are provided for. We take them in, we teach them our ways, we…train them in how to do things… the Somali way.
Flight Attendant: Oh that’s just wonderful to hear! You must be such a humanitarian.
~He chuckles.~
The Somalien: Yes, I deal exclusively in… human rights.
~She finishes pouring the drink, handing it to him. She nods and is about to move on when he reaches out and grabs her by the arm.~
The Somalien: The two behind me are my traveling partners. They will no doubt be thirsty when they wake up. I’ll take two more of these…for them.
~He winks, she smiles. She takes out two more glasses, and digs into the ice bucket.~
Flight Attendant: Of course, sir. What brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?
The Somalien: A…friend of my brother’s is there. I owe him for some dealings from a few weeks back. I am coming to make sure he is paid in full for what he did.
.::Reformation is 10 days away. Plenty of time to train, to prepare… to physically and mentally get ready for what is sure to be the biggest, most violent match of the night. When the card was announced the buzz immediately went to the main event as it should. But, as time has passed, folks are realizing that the Savage Title match is going to steal the show. Three of today’s best and most talented squaring off for what has become one of the top prizes in all of sports. Jace Parker Davidson, the douchiest amongst douches… Dylan Thomas, the A-lister himself… and the one and only Amick Dogeron. No catchphrase needed. Just a man with a blue collar mentality willing to fight to prove I still belong in this industry. In short oder we will no doubt hear JPD run his mouth about how he is better than Dylan and I and how we are nothing. Dylan Thomas will talk of defending his title to the best of his abilities and likely have words for JPD following the vicious attack on Monday. But me… I’ll be here doing what I always do. Grinding, working…giving it everything I’ve got. I don’t need to tell the world that either of these two men suck at what they do, because they don’t. They’re top notch performers, some of the best this industry has ever seen. The only difference here, is Amick Dogeron is the cream of the crop, and…if I may use just one more idiom, the cream always rises to the top.::.
~The scene opens inside of a small store front Haitian restaurant. Amick and Sarah are just finishing up their lunch as a young black waitress comes up to clear their table.~
Amick: Cassandra, tout bagay pi bon!
(Cassandra, everything was great!)
Cassandra: (smiling) Thank you.
~The waitress clears the table and heads back to the kitchen.~
Sarah: I always forget you did missions work in Haiti too.
Amick: It was the first thing I did when I got out of prison. I spent two years there before I felt the Lord calling me to Eastern Africa. Some of my best memories were formed on that little island. It—
BANG BANG BANG
~Three gun shots in succession are heard outside the building. Amick dives onto Sarah and pushes her under the table. He quickly assesses her to see if she’s been hit, breathing a sigh of relief to learn she is fine. He crawls out from under the table to see the waitress, Cassandra, has not been so lucky. She is lying on the floor, a pool of blood beginning to form under her left thigh. Amick crawls over to the young woman, who is crying in pain.~
Amick: Cassandra!
Cassandra: My leg! My leg!
~Amick, though not a doctor by any means, has seen enough work as a medic on the mission field to see right away that Cassandra, though clearly in pain, is in no danger of dying. The bullet passed through a meaty area of her thigh. He takes a cloth napkin that she had dropped and tightens it around her leg, creating a makeshift tourniquet to stop the bleeding.~
BANG BANG
~He glances outside through the shattered glass door to see a commotion. A robbery or some sort of gang activity seems to be taking place, and Cassandra served as collateral damage. Amick crawls closer to the door to get a better look. He sees a young Haitian American man crouched behind a parked vehicle with a handgun on his side of the road. On the other side, two men are shouting in Haitian Creole at the man, guns drawn on him. Amick crawls back to Cassandra and yells to Sarah to call 911.~
Amick: You’re going to be ok Cassandra, the bullet missed all of your main arteries.
Cassandra: Bondye, bay pitye pou mwen!
(God, have mercy on me!)
~Just then, the young Haitian man bursts through the door, gun drawn on Amick and Cassandra.~
Haitian Man: Help me! Or you’re all going to die!
~To be continued…~
—JUNE 16, 2022 | Brooklyn, NY—
~The scene opens on an overcast summer afternoon on the exterior of the Barclays Center, the setting for this past Monday’s Massacre. We then cut to various other familiar site’s in Brooklyn. Prospect Park. The iconic Brooklyn Bridge. The Greenwood Cemetery. Many more locations are shown in the montage before ultimately landing on two individuals walking down Flatbush Avenue… a man and a woman. The man is wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap with sunglasses. The girl, a few inches shorter, is dressed in a black and white polka dotted sundress with a grey and orange patterned overcoat. She has on knee high black boots and her long blonde hair wisps in the air as the wind blows by.~
Sarah: Where are we headed again?
Amick: I told you, there’s this great little restaurant in Little Haiti I want you to try out.
Sarah: Is it close? I wish you would have told me we had to walk a long way to get there. I wouldn’t have worn these boots.
~Amick chuckles.~
Sarah: What?
Amick: I thought you’ve lived in New York long enough to know you can’t go anywhere without walking. Maybe you’re not such a New Yorker after all.
Sarah: New Yorkers take the subway!
Amick: What? And miss out on this fantastic weather? You don’t get many overcast summer days like this in New York.
~Sarah gives him a wry look before cracking a smile. Amick reaches over and puts his arm around her, pulling her close as they continue walking.~
Amick: I’ve missed this.
Sarah: Me too.
Amick: It’s just up ahead. We’ll take a left up here on Clarendon and then the restaurant is just a few blocks further. It’s either on 29th or 30th, I can’t remember.
.::Have you ever heard the expression, “just a walk in the park”? According to the Cambridge Dictionary, it is a common idiom used to describe something that is easy and typically very pleasant to do. I think about expressions like this all the time. Where do they come from? How have they become so common in our vernacular? Maybe I’m weird. I’m willing to accept that. Never have really went with the flow in society or found myself on the leading edge of the trends. To me, there’s something so freeing when you don’t feel obligated to conform to what others think you should be. It’s probably one of the reasons I’ve grown to respect Dylan Thomas as much as I have. Since joining OCW, he’s consistently…here comes another idiom… marched to the beat of a different drum. He doesn’t operate or make decisions based on the opinions of others. He, along with the rest of his A-List group, pretty much do as they please and seem to enjoy life in the process. I admit I was caught off guard when he’s the one who came to the ring this past Monday to address me, but what he said made a lot of sense. Everything, that is, except his comparison of my ascension here in OCW to that of riding a wave. Dylan, I’ll give you that to the casual observer what I’ve been able to accomplish here in such a short time could appear to be a hot streak, or beginner’s luck, or as you put it…riding a wave that inevitably will come crashing down. But Dylan, this isn’t my first rodeo. Just because the world isn’t so familiar with Amick Dogeron doesn’t make me some wide-eyed rookie in need of a reality check. I had championship gold around my waist years before most of the OCW roster was in high school. The title “Newcomer of the Month” only pertains to OCW, not wrestling. So while I appreciate the kind words and the advice, allow me to give you some of my own. On Sunday, June 26, live for the world to see, I’m going to step into the ring with you and Jace Parker Davidson and ride a wave all the way to Savage Championship gold.::.
~We cut to the inside of an airplane during beverage service. Two flight attendants are operating carts, one at the front of the plane and one at the back both working toward the middle. At the very front, siting alone in his row in first class, sits a black gentlemen in a gray suit. His hair is cut short and face cleanly shaven. Behind him sit two similarly dressed men, both sleeping. The flight attendant, white…slender with brown hair and several years his senior, approaches.~
Flight Attendant: Excuse me sir, what can I get you to drink?
The Somalien: Eh, I will have… rum and Coke. Yes?
Flight Attendant: Of course.
~She busies herself getting the drink together.~
Flight Attendant: That’s such a unique accent. Do you mind me asking where you’re from?
The Somalien: I am Somali, but…my business has taken me to Djibouti.
Flight Attendant: Oh, wow! I’ve never been to either of those places. Africa, right? Oh it just breaks my heart when I see those TV commercials about feeding the children. Is it really as bad as they make it out to be?
~The Somalien sighs but keeps up the fake smile as best as he can.~
The Somalien: The children where I am from are provided for. We take them in, we teach them our ways, we…train them in how to do things… the Somali way.
Flight Attendant: Oh that’s just wonderful to hear! You must be such a humanitarian.
~He chuckles.~
The Somalien: Yes, I deal exclusively in… human rights.
~She finishes pouring the drink, handing it to him. She nods and is about to move on when he reaches out and grabs her by the arm.~
The Somalien: The two behind me are my traveling partners. They will no doubt be thirsty when they wake up. I’ll take two more of these…for them.
~He winks, she smiles. She takes out two more glasses, and digs into the ice bucket.~
Flight Attendant: Of course, sir. What brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?
The Somalien: A…friend of my brother’s is there. I owe him for some dealings from a few weeks back. I am coming to make sure he is paid in full for what he did.
.::Reformation is 10 days away. Plenty of time to train, to prepare… to physically and mentally get ready for what is sure to be the biggest, most violent match of the night. When the card was announced the buzz immediately went to the main event as it should. But, as time has passed, folks are realizing that the Savage Title match is going to steal the show. Three of today’s best and most talented squaring off for what has become one of the top prizes in all of sports. Jace Parker Davidson, the douchiest amongst douches… Dylan Thomas, the A-lister himself… and the one and only Amick Dogeron. No catchphrase needed. Just a man with a blue collar mentality willing to fight to prove I still belong in this industry. In short oder we will no doubt hear JPD run his mouth about how he is better than Dylan and I and how we are nothing. Dylan Thomas will talk of defending his title to the best of his abilities and likely have words for JPD following the vicious attack on Monday. But me… I’ll be here doing what I always do. Grinding, working…giving it everything I’ve got. I don’t need to tell the world that either of these two men suck at what they do, because they don’t. They’re top notch performers, some of the best this industry has ever seen. The only difference here, is Amick Dogeron is the cream of the crop, and…if I may use just one more idiom, the cream always rises to the top.::.
~The scene opens inside of a small store front Haitian restaurant. Amick and Sarah are just finishing up their lunch as a young black waitress comes up to clear their table.~
Amick: Cassandra, tout bagay pi bon!
(Cassandra, everything was great!)
Cassandra: (smiling) Thank you.
~The waitress clears the table and heads back to the kitchen.~
Sarah: I always forget you did missions work in Haiti too.
Amick: It was the first thing I did when I got out of prison. I spent two years there before I felt the Lord calling me to Eastern Africa. Some of my best memories were formed on that little island. It—
BANG BANG BANG
~Three gun shots in succession are heard outside the building. Amick dives onto Sarah and pushes her under the table. He quickly assesses her to see if she’s been hit, breathing a sigh of relief to learn she is fine. He crawls out from under the table to see the waitress, Cassandra, has not been so lucky. She is lying on the floor, a pool of blood beginning to form under her left thigh. Amick crawls over to the young woman, who is crying in pain.~
Amick: Cassandra!
Cassandra: My leg! My leg!
~Amick, though not a doctor by any means, has seen enough work as a medic on the mission field to see right away that Cassandra, though clearly in pain, is in no danger of dying. The bullet passed through a meaty area of her thigh. He takes a cloth napkin that she had dropped and tightens it around her leg, creating a makeshift tourniquet to stop the bleeding.~
BANG BANG
~He glances outside through the shattered glass door to see a commotion. A robbery or some sort of gang activity seems to be taking place, and Cassandra served as collateral damage. Amick crawls closer to the door to get a better look. He sees a young Haitian American man crouched behind a parked vehicle with a handgun on his side of the road. On the other side, two men are shouting in Haitian Creole at the man, guns drawn on him. Amick crawls back to Cassandra and yells to Sarah to call 911.~
Amick: You’re going to be ok Cassandra, the bullet missed all of your main arteries.
Cassandra: Bondye, bay pitye pou mwen!
(God, have mercy on me!)
~Just then, the young Haitian man bursts through the door, gun drawn on Amick and Cassandra.~
Haitian Man: Help me! Or you’re all going to die!
~To be continued…~
