Reality's Dealings

{Scene Start: We find ourselves at the large home of the infamous “Black Savior” himself, Devon Slayton. The former red right hand of the Dominion is wearing a simple pair of black jeans with a white tank top and enjoying watching the surf from his seat on his deck, meanwhile near to him climbing up the stairs from the ocean side is a very angry looking Alex Slayer. The hybrid man’s long hair is pulled back into a ponytail and he’s wearing nothing more than a pair of black, gray, and white Under Armour workout shorts which leaves the rest of his powerfully built frame bare for all to witness}

Alex:
Explain this again to me, Devon. Why am I yelling at the surf below your house?

{Devon looks over at his charge and allows himself a tight smile}

Devon:
Because it amuses the fuck outta me.

{Alex in return to this answer, simply glares balefully at his advocate, his voice now a low growl}

Alex:
Then why does this amuse you, Devon?

{Devon at this point turns and looks at Alex, surprising the other man with how serious his advocate looks}

Devon:
Because hearing the piss poor words of those two fucking idiots on the edge speak ill of you doesn’t.

Alex:
If the front office were to give me a proper match against someone, instead of constantly throwing me into these fucking multi fuck matches…

{Devon lets out a very loud bark of mirthless laughter that causes Alex to stop speaking and actually take a step back}

Devon:
This is exactly why you asked me to be in your corner, Alex. To see the shit that you can’t see yourself and this is one of those fucking times. Yes, the Project Honor front office doesn’t know how to fucking book you and they keep putting you in multi-man matches because they want to see more from you than just how serious that you can be in the ring.

{Devon walks up and jabs two fingers hard into the dead center of Alex’s chest which causes the bigger man to move backwards just a couple of inches}

Devon:
They appreciate the work that you put in, they appreciate the fact that they have a very solid ass wrestler in their company amongst all of these half ass, half trained mother fuckers like Myojin, Arik, Sol, and Caliban. But if there is one thing that I’ve learned in my almost twenty years in this sport is that having the skills, the honest to fucking god, blessed by having the right fucking parents DN-fucking-*A* is only half of the battle.

You also have got to get out there and cut the fucking promos, you’ve got to show both the fucking front office and the fans that you’ve heart the heart of fucking fire and fucking huge nutsack full of fucking gasoline to go with that fire to show everyone in that damn locker room why you are not just the man, but *THE* man and you haven’t been doing that lately.

Alex:
I have only been…

Devon:
It doesn’t fucking matter, Alex. Do you think that I won two runs with the NWA world tag straps for instance on pure talent alone with Ethan Stryfe? No. There is always more to this business than what is seen.

{Alex’s eyes narrow sharply as he thinks about this at which point Devon chuckles and places a friendly hand upon the other man’s right shoulder}

Devon:
You spent way too much fucking time with Gabriel Poe, Alex. Yeah, I also know that he probably influenced your promo style and everything but let me put it to you this way-your father has won more championships than Poe for a few reasons, so it’s time for you to take a step forward and finally show those useless bastards what kind of beast is lurking in that den that is your mind, my brother.
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{The scene then cuts to a different location and the “Rated R Reaper” is pacing back and forth, his usual serious mein has been replaced with a more expression filled one..it seems that Devon’s words have finally let loose a shackle that has kept something locked down as Alex stops his pacing and points at the camera}

Alex:
He’s right you know and when he’s right, he’s fucking right. You’ll have to pardon my overuse of that singular word but it’s not often that someone points out that violent truth that has been staring me dead in the face for quite sometime now.

You see I have spent the last couple of weeks here in Project Honor wanting to be recognized as a serious worker, because I didn’t want to be just a useless pile of crap like Myojin-nothing more than a pretty face known for a catch phrase and one or two moves.

I wanted to be known as the kind of guy that this company could go to when they needed to get shit done and done right, *THAT* is what I focused on and *THAT* was what I wanted to do above all else. Because one of the things that my father taught me is that you can win as many championships as you want in this sport, but if the company isn’t behind you...then you’re just a transitional champion, holding a title until someone the company deems actually worthy to come and pick it up from you like you’re a fucking over glorified valet.

{Alex stops and then chuckles for a moment}

Alex:
Wow, I just summed up the entirety of Myojin’s career in a different promotion pretty well...didn’t I?

But enough about one particularly whiny man-child and let’s focus on the others shall we...and I’m going to start with Arik Holt.

I’m going to admit it, I kinda like this guy. I mean for a mute, he says a lot and like me, he’d rather let his actions in the ring speak for him but let’s be honest here in that from what I’ve seen of him in the ring thus far...has been pretty good.

Honestly if I had Arik as my tag partner instead of freaking WALKER a couple of weeks back then I probably wouldn’t have had that loss on my record because I have this funny feeling in my twisted little black heart that I could do great things, great and evil things with Arik Holt.

{Alex stops talking and runs a hand through his great mane of hair, chuckling ever so slightly as he does so}

Alex:
And with one great possibility comes one tremendous let down, which by the way is where *you* come into the picture, Sol Badguy….I’m *SORRY*...Colby Sol!!

{Alex turns away from the camera long enough to mutter quietly “I gotta stop playing Guilty Gear sometime” before he turns back to face the camera, but before he can say anything-Devon steps into the camera’s view and Alex does a “go ahead” motion towards the camera to his “advocate”}

Devon:
Colby, I get where you are coming from.

Alex here...not as much.

You see, Alex gets it by proxy because he’s watched his mother, his godmother, his godfather, and his stepfather all suffer from having their respective past employers treat them like kings and queens of the world, to promise them so much, and then yank it out from under them for some...let’s call it for what it is and use the tired old term of the new flavor of the month, shall we?

I know it because I’ve been on both sides of that particular coin. I have been both the flavor that was new...and the flavor that was discarded.

I’m not here to toss out witty zingers, no. I’m here to point out that your little dire hope of using the old trope of “this is my comeback story” or some variant of some such won’t work in this situation because you think that you’re a clever dick...and that shit just won’t work here in Project Honor.

Not while there is a bigger dick head in the form of Caliban out there with his angle on shit which is a thousand times better than what I saw in that little promo of yours. And while I can respect it, you...little boy...have never actually *lived* it, not in the way that I have.

You want a prime example of why your shit won’t work here...take one look at Alex and you’ll see that for a fact. Because here is a man with the god given talents that have set quite a few promotions on fire. Pro Wrestling Nova, undefeated. One Wrestling Movement, undefeated. And yes, even the World Wrestling Headquarters, undefeated...and yet here he used the exact same formula of being the humble, confident fighter willing to give up everything to make this promotion great...and where did that get him?

Shit upon by a couple of no talent fucks with a promotional news show.

{Devon offers the camera a tight smile as he laughs rather bitterly for a moment}

Devon:
But I’m glad to see that you’re willing to put in the work. To show the effort needed to light the biggest damn fire and shine your light even brighter...but your light I’m afraid is going to be quite eclipsed by Alex here because when he says that when you live by the sword, you die by the sword, that isn’t some catchy catch phrase but a truism and one that he’s quite adept at proving time and time again come this proving ground.

So...Sol Badguy...I will be at ringside and looking forward to seeing how you can enlighten me to how wrong I am in this case.

{Devon then takes a step back and we see Alex nodding in approval at what the older man had been saying}

Alex:
You still got it, a bit cryptic in places but still, nobody can honestly say that you’ve lost a step man.

Devon:
Thank you, now get back to your promo.

{At this Alex nods grimly, knowing who was left to talk about as he ran his right hand through his mane...looking very tired and frustrated at the same time and with no doubt, some very good reasons}

Alex:
And now we come to an albatross that has been hanging around my freaking neck for the past couple of weeks now and that freaking says something.

For almost a month now other than having to week in and week out deal with this constantly being shoved into multi-man matches...the only other thing is you, Walker.

Now I’ll be the first one to admit that growing up in Winnipeg, I was one of those kids that sat in the back of my class in junior high and high school. I was one of the fucking troublemakers who even though turned in the work and turned it in right, the teachers always lumped right there in with the actual lost cases.

The kids exactly like you.

I fought long and hard to draw myself up from being considered a lost case back then, Walker. I fought for that recognition from the teachers that I wasn’t some lost cause then and I made it to University and succeeded there.

When I first got my start in this very industry a lot of the nights that I worked was for the very hotdog and a handshake that people like you no doubt fucking make fun of every time that you hear about it because you don’t think that it could happen to you.

But even as I say that, Walker, you and little fuckers like Myojin are probably asking “well if you are so and so’s kid, then why did you have to work like that...couldn’t you know just go to the head of the line or some shit like that”?

{Alex shakes his head slowly}

Alex:
Yes, I’m the son of the “South Korean Nightmare” and the stepson of the “Apocalypse”...and I’m the son, the *SON* of the “Godfather of Violence”. I come from wrestling royalty...but not once did I *ever* use that to my advantage.

I took the path of handshake and hotdog, of busting my ass night after night after NIGHT to earn my spots in each and every promotion that I was in since I have debuted in this industry...and yes, I may hold myself to a higher standard and that may mean it takes me a bit to get going promo wise and to become comfortable with my surroundings...but the work is worth it.

{Alex then points hard into the camera}

Alex:
Unlike you, Walker. All you do is stand there and take up space. You’ve got a solid look and that’s it.

There’s no spark...no spirit behind those eyes to even warm the embers of your career enough to allow some fragment of a fictional fire deity to start that fire and week after week after week, you and I are forced to circle each other and I’m sick of it.

Sick of it enough that at Proving Grounds, I am going to be the one who puts you down and takes the win in this match.

Not Colby Sol and his burying of the light ass.

Not Arik Holt and his spectacular mute self.

*me*

Alex motherfucking Slayer, the man that Thomas Croft of Pro Wrestling Nova quoted in my second match that I was a “Rated R Reaper” because of what I can do in that ring, not because I thought it sounded fucking cool, and by god, what I can do in that ring is something that a guy like me should not be able to do because of how I am built and I’m like a shit brickhouse.

But I do because I refuse to accept you or anyone else’s so called “reality”.

Not Caliban and his fucking string theories.

Not Myojin and his Michael Jakcson wanna-be ass attitude.

And Not anyone else in this entire company that thinks that I’m nothing than just some random fuck to fill a spot.

No.

That’s *you*, Walker.

That’s you in a complete and total nutshell and you can’t say or do a *damned* thing to convince anyone else otherwise.

Me, I’ve got heads to collect. My *time* and My *money* are fucking precious and unlike your lazy fucking ass,  I’m the cornerstone of a fucking Foundation that is running roughshod all over the indy scene and I will god-*DAMNED* if I’m kept back any longer here in this promotion.

Because of albatrosses like *you*.

{Alex lowers his hand and then takes a step back from the camera, the right corner of his mouth twitches a little bit like he’s about to smirk}

Alex:
So come to proving grounds, gentlemen. Come to the big show before Thanksgiving.

Come to my feast of violence and give thanks for the beatings that you are about to receive, because the Shinigami Foundation always puts on our best and at Proving Grounds...hehehe...it is time to start showing what we mean.

{Alex turns his head to the right to look at Devon who is looking on with great approval}

Alex:
Am I right...my brother?

{Devon can only chuckle darkly in response before looking at the camera, his smile as dark as his mood}

Devon:
See you boys at Proving Grounds.

{The screen fades to black}