AS77: Triple X vs. SHIT (#1 Contendership Match)
- Thread starter Harthan
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WZCW fan access, or access to fans, or where fans get access, or, well, S.H.I.T didn't know what the purpose of the exercise was really, all it knew was that it had been told something about a "higher profile" since it had decided to demand a World title shot, and that if it was going to be a World title contender, it damn well better act like one.
In truth it was here because it could think of no good reason why it shouldn't be, which just about summed it its existence post Barbosa. Still, stomping out onto the stage and ruining Ricky Runn's title celebration had been, what would the Smoker personality call it? Fun... Sure, it had caused the ire of Ricky Runn, and in turn cost it the match against Mikey Stormrage it was almost certain of victory in, but in that moment S.H.I.T had decided that it was worth it, just to process the look on Ricky Runn's face. Almost as good as the look will be when S.H.I.T inevitably takes the World Ti...
"Are you a robot?" Said a small voice next to the robot.
S.H.I.T stopped its internal monologue to focus on the offender. A little girl, indicating with great enthusiasm toward the machine while tugging on the sleeve of a woman who could only be the mother.
Affirmative. S.H.I.T replied, already starting to exhaust its available supply of small talk.
"I thought you were a robot!" The child said with the kind of delight usually reserved for the types of men that have epiphanies when apples drop on their heads, or the bath water displaces when they jump into it.
Excellent deductive skills. S.H.I.T replied. The girl beamed.
"I bet thats proper metal you're made out of." She said.
Yes, Human child. It replied, Metal, and circuits.
She nodded with authority.
"Are you a wrestler?" She asked, in the slow drawl of children everywhere who have not long learned their words and everyone of which takes a special kind of effort to get right. While the mother smiled down awkwardly.
Affirmative.
"What's your name?"
Scale Humanoid Industrial Technology. It stated.
"Scale Hu..."
This S.H.I.T was more used to, it jumped in to save time. You can call this one by its acronym.
"Whats an acronym?" The girl asked her visibly reddening mother.
"Never mind about that, dear!" She said quickly.
She paused for a while, "I've got new socks." She announced proudly, pulling them up to indicate them.
S.H.I.T, at first thrown off by the short attention span of the conversation, searched its databanks for a suitable reply. My goodness. It settled on eventually.
"I am sorry about this."
Apologies unnecessary.
"She's not really a fan of wrestling, you see." The mother went on, while the girl occupied her own time, "we're here with my son," she said, indicating a much older boy following Becky Serra around with doe eyes. "He's mad for it."
S.H.I.T considered this, perhaps you should consider psychological help?
"Hah, thats what I've been saying." She said and laughed, and stopped laughing when she saw S.H.I.T's fixed expression.
This one has associated with 'mad' people in the past.
"I can imagine."
There was a long, awkward silence.
Would you or your children like a signed document? It said, as though it had rehearsed the sentence over and over.
"A what?"
S.H.I.T processed for a bit, an autograph. It said, preferring a picture of itself and a pen, almost hopefully.
"Oh, well, its just that I don't think Adam is really here to see... I mean he never mentioned..."
Who is this Adam?
"My son," she finished lamely, "I think he's here to see some other people..."
That is acceptable... It said, the mother smiled and took her daughter by the hand, what other people?
The mother flushed, "He mentioned someone called Vega..."
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"And Matt Tastic?"
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"And Triple X." Piped in the little girl, proud of herself all over again.
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"He said Triple X is going to beat that crappy carnival character, just like Matt Tastic did!" She said again, and giggled while her mother tried unsuccessfully to stop that little outburst.
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
So he would not desire an S.H.I.T autograph then. It stated.
"Perhaps not..."
Yes, of course.
"Who are you fighting?"
S.H.I.T turned its fearsome gaze upon the small child, Triple X.
The little girl laughed, "I hope you win!" She said.
S.H.I.T was genuinely bemused. Why?
"Cos' it'll make Adam mad!"
S.H.I.T was still genuinely bemused. As a family, should you not be providing a united front?
"Hah!"
S.H.I.T is immune to sarcasm.
"Personally I hope you beat that Triple X, if half of what Adam says about him is true."
"He's straight edge and better than you." Chorused the girl, as though she'd heard it a hundred times before.
"I don't understand how anybody could cheer someone who would tie a man to a stretcher and throw him off an arena stage."
S.H.I.T considered the violence it had inflicted in the name of entertainment, and of the recent crowd reactions it had received. Some people go against the grain? It ventured.
"He says you're too childish to be in wrestling." She said.
It is an accusation leveled at this one a great deal recently, S.H.I.T confessed. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in it.
"Better a bit of fun than a violent psychopath," said the mother in that knowing way, "and what the hell is that Ricky Runn supposed to be?"
"SWAG! SWAG! SWAG!" Giggled the girl, jumping up and down.
"Are they supposed to be role models for our children?"
S.H.I.T listened to the onslaught, wondering why it was being subjected to the lecture.
"Tell me, what is your character all about?" She demanded.
S.H.I.T exists only to destroy! Came that mantra, but S.H.I.T knew that'd be the wrong answer.
This one strives to find out what it means to be Human, and if it can achieve a higher purpose. It said, thinking of its book of Nitch quotes and harp.
"Well," she said, "perhaps I'll take that autograph."
S.H.I.T processed this. You wish for this ones autograph?
"Yes."
"Yes! Yes!"
Do you not find this one childish?
"Well... look, you seem like someone we can get behind."
S.H.I.T thought about some of its past exploits, things such as helping to plunge WZCW into the hands of Ty Burna, it and Barbosa striving to blow each other up with C4. Still, that was the past. The past stays there, its fixed, you can determine your own future however.
Very well. It said, and wrote out an autograph.
"And me!" Said the girl indignantly.
Do you not find this one childish? It asked.
"I am a child." She replied.
Couldn't argue with that reasoning. Here you go, small Human. It said. This one shall strive to defeat Triple X.
"Adam says Triple X winning is a sure thing." She said warily.
This one has defeated Triple X twice before. Let S.H.I.T's actions in the ring determine what the 'sure thing' is.
Long after the event was over, and the machine was traveling back to its usual haunt, S.H.I.T wondered why it recalled the meeting with the woman and child who weren't fans of wrestling more than any other of its interactions with the Human swarm, it dawned on the machine that despite everything, they represented a far larger portion of the fan base than the son. For every serious fan who liked to cheer the bad guys and thought there was no place for "ridiculous" characters, there were dozens asking S.H.I.T for its autograph. It was a simple fact that had been staring the Machine in the face for the longest time, and yet it had taken two people that don't even watch wrestling to drive that fact home.
It also wondered why it had even appraised that situation in the first place? Could it be that Matt Tastic's desire to rid the federation of S.H.I.T had actually struck a blow?
It resolved to not ask questions it'd never be able to answer. It had a match to win, an ally to avenge, and a title to take. As always, it would take these things one step at a time, and the first step was Triple X, an opponent it had defeated twice before, though it had learned nothing in this world was certain.
It had thought of visiting the "XXX" store in order to scout its opponent in a shallow mockery of what its future one on one competition against Triple X would entail, the place was full of material, it had noticed. It had decided against the idea, there is only so much learning anything can fit into one day.
In truth it was here because it could think of no good reason why it shouldn't be, which just about summed it its existence post Barbosa. Still, stomping out onto the stage and ruining Ricky Runn's title celebration had been, what would the Smoker personality call it? Fun... Sure, it had caused the ire of Ricky Runn, and in turn cost it the match against Mikey Stormrage it was almost certain of victory in, but in that moment S.H.I.T had decided that it was worth it, just to process the look on Ricky Runn's face. Almost as good as the look will be when S.H.I.T inevitably takes the World Ti...
"Are you a robot?" Said a small voice next to the robot.
S.H.I.T stopped its internal monologue to focus on the offender. A little girl, indicating with great enthusiasm toward the machine while tugging on the sleeve of a woman who could only be the mother.
Affirmative. S.H.I.T replied, already starting to exhaust its available supply of small talk.
"I thought you were a robot!" The child said with the kind of delight usually reserved for the types of men that have epiphanies when apples drop on their heads, or the bath water displaces when they jump into it.
Excellent deductive skills. S.H.I.T replied. The girl beamed.
"I bet thats proper metal you're made out of." She said.
Yes, Human child. It replied, Metal, and circuits.
She nodded with authority.
"Are you a wrestler?" She asked, in the slow drawl of children everywhere who have not long learned their words and everyone of which takes a special kind of effort to get right. While the mother smiled down awkwardly.
Affirmative.
"What's your name?"
Scale Humanoid Industrial Technology. It stated.
"Scale Hu..."
This S.H.I.T was more used to, it jumped in to save time. You can call this one by its acronym.
"Whats an acronym?" The girl asked her visibly reddening mother.
"Never mind about that, dear!" She said quickly.
She paused for a while, "I've got new socks." She announced proudly, pulling them up to indicate them.
S.H.I.T, at first thrown off by the short attention span of the conversation, searched its databanks for a suitable reply. My goodness. It settled on eventually.
"I am sorry about this."
Apologies unnecessary.
"She's not really a fan of wrestling, you see." The mother went on, while the girl occupied her own time, "we're here with my son," she said, indicating a much older boy following Becky Serra around with doe eyes. "He's mad for it."
S.H.I.T considered this, perhaps you should consider psychological help?
"Hah, thats what I've been saying." She said and laughed, and stopped laughing when she saw S.H.I.T's fixed expression.
This one has associated with 'mad' people in the past.
"I can imagine."
There was a long, awkward silence.
Would you or your children like a signed document? It said, as though it had rehearsed the sentence over and over.
"A what?"
S.H.I.T processed for a bit, an autograph. It said, preferring a picture of itself and a pen, almost hopefully.
"Oh, well, its just that I don't think Adam is really here to see... I mean he never mentioned..."
Who is this Adam?
"My son," she finished lamely, "I think he's here to see some other people..."
That is acceptable... It said, the mother smiled and took her daughter by the hand, what other people?
The mother flushed, "He mentioned someone called Vega..."
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"And Matt Tastic?"
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"And Triple X." Piped in the little girl, proud of herself all over again.
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
"He said Triple X is going to beat that crappy carnival character, just like Matt Tastic did!" She said again, and giggled while her mother tried unsuccessfully to stop that little outburst.
Yes, of course. Said S.H.I.T.
So he would not desire an S.H.I.T autograph then. It stated.
"Perhaps not..."
Yes, of course.
"Who are you fighting?"
S.H.I.T turned its fearsome gaze upon the small child, Triple X.
The little girl laughed, "I hope you win!" She said.
S.H.I.T was genuinely bemused. Why?
"Cos' it'll make Adam mad!"
S.H.I.T was still genuinely bemused. As a family, should you not be providing a united front?
"Hah!"
S.H.I.T is immune to sarcasm.
"Personally I hope you beat that Triple X, if half of what Adam says about him is true."
"He's straight edge and better than you." Chorused the girl, as though she'd heard it a hundred times before.
"I don't understand how anybody could cheer someone who would tie a man to a stretcher and throw him off an arena stage."
S.H.I.T considered the violence it had inflicted in the name of entertainment, and of the recent crowd reactions it had received. Some people go against the grain? It ventured.
"He says you're too childish to be in wrestling." She said.
It is an accusation leveled at this one a great deal recently, S.H.I.T confessed. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in it.
"Better a bit of fun than a violent psychopath," said the mother in that knowing way, "and what the hell is that Ricky Runn supposed to be?"
"SWAG! SWAG! SWAG!" Giggled the girl, jumping up and down.
"Are they supposed to be role models for our children?"
S.H.I.T listened to the onslaught, wondering why it was being subjected to the lecture.
"Tell me, what is your character all about?" She demanded.
S.H.I.T exists only to destroy! Came that mantra, but S.H.I.T knew that'd be the wrong answer.
This one strives to find out what it means to be Human, and if it can achieve a higher purpose. It said, thinking of its book of Nitch quotes and harp.
"Well," she said, "perhaps I'll take that autograph."
S.H.I.T processed this. You wish for this ones autograph?
"Yes."
"Yes! Yes!"
Do you not find this one childish?
"Well... look, you seem like someone we can get behind."
S.H.I.T thought about some of its past exploits, things such as helping to plunge WZCW into the hands of Ty Burna, it and Barbosa striving to blow each other up with C4. Still, that was the past. The past stays there, its fixed, you can determine your own future however.
Very well. It said, and wrote out an autograph.
"And me!" Said the girl indignantly.
Do you not find this one childish? It asked.
"I am a child." She replied.
Couldn't argue with that reasoning. Here you go, small Human. It said. This one shall strive to defeat Triple X.
"Adam says Triple X winning is a sure thing." She said warily.
This one has defeated Triple X twice before. Let S.H.I.T's actions in the ring determine what the 'sure thing' is.
Long after the event was over, and the machine was traveling back to its usual haunt, S.H.I.T wondered why it recalled the meeting with the woman and child who weren't fans of wrestling more than any other of its interactions with the Human swarm, it dawned on the machine that despite everything, they represented a far larger portion of the fan base than the son. For every serious fan who liked to cheer the bad guys and thought there was no place for "ridiculous" characters, there were dozens asking S.H.I.T for its autograph. It was a simple fact that had been staring the Machine in the face for the longest time, and yet it had taken two people that don't even watch wrestling to drive that fact home.
It also wondered why it had even appraised that situation in the first place? Could it be that Matt Tastic's desire to rid the federation of S.H.I.T had actually struck a blow?
It resolved to not ask questions it'd never be able to answer. It had a match to win, an ally to avenge, and a title to take. As always, it would take these things one step at a time, and the first step was Triple X, an opponent it had defeated twice before, though it had learned nothing in this world was certain.
It had thought of visiting the "XXX" store in order to scout its opponent in a shallow mockery of what its future one on one competition against Triple X would entail, the place was full of material, it had noticed. It had decided against the idea, there is only so much learning anything can fit into one day.
BK Styles
Certified Nerd
March 21st, Cleveland OH
Everything happens for a reason.
Every victory. Every mistake. Every lost love. Every perished loved one. Every single event that happens in our lives, both to us and the people around us, happens for a reason. Many would have you contemplate on that reason, trying to figure the complexities of such a grand motive in life. You neednt bother though; I worked it out long ago and, to be honest, it isnt even that complex.
Because everything happens to mould us into who we were always meant to become.
I ponder on this thought on the drive back to the hotel. I ponder it along with examples of my own life. My early misdemeanors. Abi her death. My issues with mom and, more so, my dad. The thoughts shift to a more wrestling-themed selection. More specifically; the amount of matches I have lost when something important has been on the line.
Mistakes made by being the disposable hero the fans wanted me to be
made by people screwing me out of what is rightfully mine
and those made by taking things for granted.
Each of those, in their own way, were mistakes of my own making. But each one, not just those three, but stretching back further, each mistake I have ever made has lead me to this point.
To a number one contenders match.
I reach the hotel and head straight to the elevator. I checked in the previous night for a bunch of radio interviews the office asked me to do. I had a bunch of them all in a row and they all went along the same lines.
I really hate interviews.
I get to the floor and enter the room to find Talia stretching on the floor of the large, open hotel room. Her she is lying on her stomach on the yoga mat, arching her back and curling her body up to the ceiling, eyes staring at the plainness of the ceiling. She looks over to me and gets herself up, wrapping her arms around me.
Hey beautiful.
We kiss, before I retreat to the bathroom to change into my running gear. I re-emerge to find her clad in tight running shorts, a tight sports top and a headband, all in black. She turns to face me, momentarily catching me staring at her.
Who said you could stare?
You complainin?
I never said that.
I grin, as she moves closer to me and kisses me again. I run my hands up her side and round to her spine, before running them back down again. I think to myself, during this incredibly normal moment between two people, how nice it is to be able to have a moment like this in my crazy life. Almost as if she knows what I'm thinking, she grins, as I pull away and crouch to put my sneakers on. She opens the door as I throw a couple of bottles of water into my backpack and we both exit the hotel for a short jog around the block.
So, you worried about a man in a cardboard box?
Hell yeah I am.
Seriously?
Talia, theres nothing more dangerous than a guy in a cardboard box.
This response gets a laugh from her as we continue on round the corner.
But seriously though Ive been in the ring with him. It. Whatever. I know it isnt going to be a cakewalk. We wrestled once, early in my career. I lost. I tend to avenge my losses where possible. And yeah, hes been on a tear recently; former Elite X Champion, and a very impressive reign at that. But Ive been there, done that, and sold a ton of t-shirts, not to mention that Im also a former Eurasian Champion. The next logical step for me is the WZCW World Championship, and cardboard box-wearing human or not, Ive gotta beat S.H.I.T. before I can get there.
I continue running in silence for a moment, thinking about the opportunity this match has presented to me. I think of Holmes piledriving me down, then going on to become World Champion at the following pay-per-view. I think of Blade costing me the King for a Day match. I even think of Blades knee into my shoulder, taking me out of the tournament that Ricky Runn won to get his first shot at the world title.
My mind flicks forward to the Hell in a Cell match. How I, Triple X, despite having a brutal match already that evening, came within inches of winning the championship. How my superkick was the move that retained Runns title, and how it should be me with the big gold belt wrapped firmly around my waist.
You okay?
I stay focused forward and keep on running. Im sick of not taking my chances. Its time to start winning the ones that matter. And that starts at Meltdown. Ive got to beat S.H.I.T. for that championship opportunity.
I stop and take a bottle of water from my backpack.
You can beat S.H.I.T., you know that right?
I guess well find out at Meltdown.
Maybe thats the difference?
What do you mean?
Well, instead of needing to win, or thinking you can win, or anything like that. You need to know it. You need to be sure you can win. Otherwise, there will always be doubt in your mind.
Hey, excuse me!
Before I can contemplate Talias view further, I turn around to see a slightly rotund guy, roughly in his mid twenties, wearing and old Everest t-shirt. The one good thing about my negativity towards the WZCW fans is they rarely stop me in the street anymore. Obviously this guy missed that memo.
What?
I I was just wondering if I could get an autograph.
He holds out a marker pen and a magazine. I look to Talia who just shrugs, and against my initial desire to drop him with a superkick, I take the magazine and pen. The nib is just about to touch the front cover when I look closer at the magazine. Its a general wrestling fan magazine, and one of the smaller headlines on the front reads Triple X: Big Match Choker. My blood begins to boil, but I do my best to remain calm and undeterred on the outside.
Whats your name?
Chad.
Okay Chad
Before I say anything else I tear a chunk out of the magazine and throw it in the air, before launching the pen into the street. He stands there for a moment, looking quite perplexed and a little pissed off. I yell Beat it! at him, and he finally walks around me and briskly away, muttering and swearing under his breath. I take another sip of water while Talia stares at me, her jaw hanging in shock.
What the hell was that??
Are you kidding? Thats one of the people who boos me, week in, week out. One of the people who I used to care about impressing. But see, even now he still wants me to sign some piece of trash so he can feel better about his dumb-as-hell life. And that proves my point.
What?
'That these people dont care. My voice is little below a yell now. These people only care about getting what they want. Not about whether we hurt ourselves. Not about our feelings.
And it clicks. Like a final piece falling into a jigsaw. 'Everything happens for a reason.'
I turn to face the street and laugh, almost manically. The only reason Im not WZCW Champion is because Ive spent my life trying to impress these people. Saying how I need to win, whilst looking around and hoping they get a good shot of me jumping off the top rope.
I turn back to Talia, who now looks more perplexed than shocked. That distraction is gone. The very thing that cost me every big match Ive ever had has finally got off my back. Because all I care about is winning.
A smile finally returns to Talias face. And win you shall. Just remember who you need to win against first.
Im not overlooking S.H.I.T. at all. How could I. But S.H.I.T. is a road-block. A practice before the real exam. A worthy opponent for me to beat on my way to greatness.
I place my hands on her hips and pull her close. Its like you said. I need to know I can do it. No more not taking my chances. With nothing to worry about out there but myself, theres no power in the universe that can stop me.
She kisses me, retaining that huge smile on her face. First S.H.I.T.-
-then the world.
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