Post by obsessed on Jan 21, 2010 12:58:02 GMT -5
Once again, since signing his contract, he appeared in the crowd of an XWA spectacular. Biding his time. Waiting for his moment. Tonight wasn't the night to unleash in the ring what he and only he could. Tonight wasn't the night to showcase his talent for the world to see on a stage that it hadn't for years. Tonight, it was still time to survey the landscape. Get the feel to once again be in something that wasn't rightfully his... to be an actual employee... to be on the same level as anyone and everyone else.
Even his former partner and friend, Jayson Jones. It'd been even longer since the two of them had first met, in the bingo hall that started it all for everybody. The proverbial point of origin for not only the XWA, but it's predecessor. Where stars were born, in the backyard of a swamp in Ohio. Far away from bright lights. Far away from six-digit minimum contracts. Far away from the cars, the fame, the notoriety... From all of the humbling beginnings.
He may be a four-time World Champion with four different organizations. He may be the only champion one of them ever really had... but now. Now it was the time to return to the swamps, return to the point of origin, to the time before the big-bang. And anything that he knew told him that the bang needed a catalyst. A reason to turn their heads, and look, aside from being yet another one who staggered to XWA's doorstep and begged that past accomplishments be their ticket to success.
He's done it all before, and can easily do it again.
Jayson Jones has just proven victorious, keeping perhaps the most well-known man on the entire XWA's roster, Scott O'Dell, flat on his back for a ten count. Beaten, sore, bloody... those were all the words that could define in laymen's terms just what both men were feeling. Despite the adrenaline and the expulsion of these feelings that the sound of his theme music in celebration normally brings, this is a time when they can be their most vulnerable.
Vulnerable to succumb to an explosion.
He'd made his way to the front row, and ascended the railing. Security tried to apprehend him, only for one to be dropped to the floor with a headbutt, and the other to get a facefull of a signed contract. This stalled him enough to realize that this was an XWA talent, no matter what the circumstances, he was not a crazed fan to be arrested, slammed into every wall on his way out, and fined out the ass with a stay behind bars.
Beneath his hooded shirt, the man turns his attention again to the ring, and slides in under the top rope. Surely by now the man has grasped the attention of Jayson Jones, as he steps forward, and looks his old colleague straight into the eyes, fists clenched, breathing controlled.
The stadium has fallen silent.
Even his former partner and friend, Jayson Jones. It'd been even longer since the two of them had first met, in the bingo hall that started it all for everybody. The proverbial point of origin for not only the XWA, but it's predecessor. Where stars were born, in the backyard of a swamp in Ohio. Far away from bright lights. Far away from six-digit minimum contracts. Far away from the cars, the fame, the notoriety... From all of the humbling beginnings.
He may be a four-time World Champion with four different organizations. He may be the only champion one of them ever really had... but now. Now it was the time to return to the swamps, return to the point of origin, to the time before the big-bang. And anything that he knew told him that the bang needed a catalyst. A reason to turn their heads, and look, aside from being yet another one who staggered to XWA's doorstep and begged that past accomplishments be their ticket to success.
He's done it all before, and can easily do it again.
Jayson Jones has just proven victorious, keeping perhaps the most well-known man on the entire XWA's roster, Scott O'Dell, flat on his back for a ten count. Beaten, sore, bloody... those were all the words that could define in laymen's terms just what both men were feeling. Despite the adrenaline and the expulsion of these feelings that the sound of his theme music in celebration normally brings, this is a time when they can be their most vulnerable.
Vulnerable to succumb to an explosion.
He'd made his way to the front row, and ascended the railing. Security tried to apprehend him, only for one to be dropped to the floor with a headbutt, and the other to get a facefull of a signed contract. This stalled him enough to realize that this was an XWA talent, no matter what the circumstances, he was not a crazed fan to be arrested, slammed into every wall on his way out, and fined out the ass with a stay behind bars.
Beneath his hooded shirt, the man turns his attention again to the ring, and slides in under the top rope. Surely by now the man has grasped the attention of Jayson Jones, as he steps forward, and looks his old colleague straight into the eyes, fists clenched, breathing controlled.
The stadium has fallen silent.