Post by James Spade on Apr 17, 2016 10:46:03 GMT -5
--- BACKSTAGE - APRIL 4th 2016 - POST MATCH VS TIM STONE ---
The scene set before us was just after the events of Meltdown #69 where we find Spade seated in the locker room, still in his ring gear and with dried blood staining the back of his neck and shoulders. His head is lowered as he's being attended by Referee Lansing and by one of NAW's EMT's. As the EMT stitched the back of his head up, Lansing performed the tests.
Holding two fingers up, Lansing asked Spade the question, "Hey kid, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Spade didn't lift his head, but looked with his eyes and answered, "Two... Look I'm fine. If I had a concussion, I'd tell you guys, alright?"
Lansing nodded, "Well as long as your vision's not blurry and you're not seeing double, I'd say your fine. Still, get checked at a hospital. You took three chair shots and nearly got your skull caved in by that big guy in tha' mask."
"Vano," Spade said his name for the old Referee, answering the question not asked. Finished with the stitch work, the EMT packed his gear and patted Spade on the shoulder.
"You're good to go, Wildkard," He said.
Spade nodded and gave him a thumbs up. As the two left him alone with the camera, Spade gathered a bottle of water up from the open cooler beside him. With a twist of the cap, he tilted his head back and guzzled a great deal of water, then poured the rest on his face and head in order to cool off and maybe get some of the caked blood from his neck to break up.
Finally, his hazel brown eyes found the camera. Surprisingly, however, he smiled.
"I give you the nod, Toybox. Well played on your part," Spade admitted, tossing the empty water bottle aside.
"You got the jump on me and did a little damage, but here's the deal. I'm not dead. You failed to extinguish this burning flame and now, I get a shot at the man that was there when it all began, Simple Simon. There's alot about you I don't know, Kid. I don't know if you're some ghost from my past or related to my past. I don't really know why you chose to single me out during the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. You dig into the open book that is my life and you pull very personal things from it to use against me and so far, I have to hand it to you. You've actually been a slight step ahead."
Spade clasped his hands together and let his eyes wander over the locker room around him for a moment. After weighing his next words, he snapped that gaze back at the camera.
"Whether it's because of your smarter companions or your own initiative, it's hard to say. My money is that Reina's the brains and that you and Vano are her psychotic muscle. Easy deduction, no sweat right? Here's what I don't get and that's what's the connection between you three and me?"
There was a bit of confusion on The Wildkard's face for a moment as he rubbed his hands back and forth.
"You've got so many tastier picks in this company to choose from that'd make a far greater impact. Until I've fought and won a championship of some kind, I may as well be nobody to you. That leads me back to the theory that you guys have a more personal reason for coming after me. You're a young crop of kids, so I wonder if you're related to someone from the rogues gallery that fills my past."
He looked off to his left, his thumb stroking the underside of his bearded chin briefly.
"I remember a few unintended accidents when I was fresh to this sport. There was also a time when I didn't care about the well being of those I faced. A time when I let my frustrations get the better of me and turn me into an uncaring, heartless son of a bitch that would go well out of his way to hurt people."
With a somber expression on his face, Spade lowered his head and stared down at the floor.
"You know what the worst thing about history is? Not all of it is sunshine and roses and if you live long enough, you're bound to make mistakes you regret. I've got more than my fair share of them for certain."
He nodded his head slowly. He took a moment, thinking about both good times and bad from his past, a small smile forming on his face.
"It's amazing that I started wrestling when I was a wet behind the ears sixteen year old in highschool. When I was young, we'd imitate our heroes and go into a makeshift wrestling ring in my backyard with my older brother. I'd practice what I imitated and try to put my own spin on it or just flat out make up moves as I went. Who'd have thought that that little kid would wind up being where I am today?" Spade paused, chuckling a bit, "Hell who'd have thought I'd live to see the ripe age of thirty six?"
Spade's demeanor changed, his expression rigid and intense as he stared hard into the camera. The light and shadow of the room played to his features well as he tipped his head forward slightly.
"Kid, I've been through worse than you and survived. You, Reina, and Vano got the jump on me, true, but it's not the first time that's ever happened to me or anyone else in this sport. Let me clue you in on something, There are some real monsters lurking out there that'd put you to shame and I overcame them, Simon. Psychotic giants, blood letting sadists, egotistical ring tyrants, you name the type and I've probably fought it. Your boy Vano fits into one of those molds, definitely, as does Reina being the twisted little antagonist that she is."
Spade leaned back in his seat a bit...
"There's even a demented clown or two on my resume, Mad Man. I've seen and done so much. I've traveled the world over and while there are still things I haven't done or experienced, Like hiking through the Amazon or trekking across the Sahara desert, I can say with absolute certainty that there is very little out there that can surprise me. Even in the sport of professional wrestling, where anything can happen, there isn't much that can happen I'm not ready for."
"No, kids," He said ,"Even when you got the jump on me at the last Meltdown, It wasn't a surprise. What you did was what your kind always does and it's sad really. You could be so much more than the sum of your parts, but instead you choose to be petty thugs ganging up on one man. At the same time, I should see it as flattering. Yes, flattering, that you believe so little in yourselves that you used distraction and ambush tactics to get one over on me."
A small smile formed on his lips.
"Vano's your big smoking gun, but I did down him for a second. I can still nail the Busted Straight as hard on a big guy as I can on people my size and smaller. As I said, I've seen 'em and beat 'em and if I can't beat you in this special briefcase qualifier match, then I don't deserve to be wrestling in NAW. Period. I'll be seeing you on the 18th, Simple Simon, and I won't be smiling. I won't be joking. I'll be in that ring, kicking the living hell out of your pie crusted ass because, if you remember your history, Ass Kicking was and still is a big part of who I am."
With that, he rose and crossed his arms over his chest. On both hands, his index, pink, and thumbs were sticking out as his smile took on a dangerous look as he furrowed his brow. He then stepped off camera, the scene fading to black.
The scene set before us was just after the events of Meltdown #69 where we find Spade seated in the locker room, still in his ring gear and with dried blood staining the back of his neck and shoulders. His head is lowered as he's being attended by Referee Lansing and by one of NAW's EMT's. As the EMT stitched the back of his head up, Lansing performed the tests.
Holding two fingers up, Lansing asked Spade the question, "Hey kid, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Spade didn't lift his head, but looked with his eyes and answered, "Two... Look I'm fine. If I had a concussion, I'd tell you guys, alright?"
Lansing nodded, "Well as long as your vision's not blurry and you're not seeing double, I'd say your fine. Still, get checked at a hospital. You took three chair shots and nearly got your skull caved in by that big guy in tha' mask."
"Vano," Spade said his name for the old Referee, answering the question not asked. Finished with the stitch work, the EMT packed his gear and patted Spade on the shoulder.
"You're good to go, Wildkard," He said.
Spade nodded and gave him a thumbs up. As the two left him alone with the camera, Spade gathered a bottle of water up from the open cooler beside him. With a twist of the cap, he tilted his head back and guzzled a great deal of water, then poured the rest on his face and head in order to cool off and maybe get some of the caked blood from his neck to break up.
Finally, his hazel brown eyes found the camera. Surprisingly, however, he smiled.
"I give you the nod, Toybox. Well played on your part," Spade admitted, tossing the empty water bottle aside.
"You got the jump on me and did a little damage, but here's the deal. I'm not dead. You failed to extinguish this burning flame and now, I get a shot at the man that was there when it all began, Simple Simon. There's alot about you I don't know, Kid. I don't know if you're some ghost from my past or related to my past. I don't really know why you chose to single me out during the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. You dig into the open book that is my life and you pull very personal things from it to use against me and so far, I have to hand it to you. You've actually been a slight step ahead."
Spade clasped his hands together and let his eyes wander over the locker room around him for a moment. After weighing his next words, he snapped that gaze back at the camera.
"Whether it's because of your smarter companions or your own initiative, it's hard to say. My money is that Reina's the brains and that you and Vano are her psychotic muscle. Easy deduction, no sweat right? Here's what I don't get and that's what's the connection between you three and me?"
There was a bit of confusion on The Wildkard's face for a moment as he rubbed his hands back and forth.
"You've got so many tastier picks in this company to choose from that'd make a far greater impact. Until I've fought and won a championship of some kind, I may as well be nobody to you. That leads me back to the theory that you guys have a more personal reason for coming after me. You're a young crop of kids, so I wonder if you're related to someone from the rogues gallery that fills my past."
He looked off to his left, his thumb stroking the underside of his bearded chin briefly.
"I remember a few unintended accidents when I was fresh to this sport. There was also a time when I didn't care about the well being of those I faced. A time when I let my frustrations get the better of me and turn me into an uncaring, heartless son of a bitch that would go well out of his way to hurt people."
With a somber expression on his face, Spade lowered his head and stared down at the floor.
"You know what the worst thing about history is? Not all of it is sunshine and roses and if you live long enough, you're bound to make mistakes you regret. I've got more than my fair share of them for certain."
He nodded his head slowly. He took a moment, thinking about both good times and bad from his past, a small smile forming on his face.
"It's amazing that I started wrestling when I was a wet behind the ears sixteen year old in highschool. When I was young, we'd imitate our heroes and go into a makeshift wrestling ring in my backyard with my older brother. I'd practice what I imitated and try to put my own spin on it or just flat out make up moves as I went. Who'd have thought that that little kid would wind up being where I am today?" Spade paused, chuckling a bit, "Hell who'd have thought I'd live to see the ripe age of thirty six?"
Spade's demeanor changed, his expression rigid and intense as he stared hard into the camera. The light and shadow of the room played to his features well as he tipped his head forward slightly.
"Kid, I've been through worse than you and survived. You, Reina, and Vano got the jump on me, true, but it's not the first time that's ever happened to me or anyone else in this sport. Let me clue you in on something, There are some real monsters lurking out there that'd put you to shame and I overcame them, Simon. Psychotic giants, blood letting sadists, egotistical ring tyrants, you name the type and I've probably fought it. Your boy Vano fits into one of those molds, definitely, as does Reina being the twisted little antagonist that she is."
Spade leaned back in his seat a bit...
"There's even a demented clown or two on my resume, Mad Man. I've seen and done so much. I've traveled the world over and while there are still things I haven't done or experienced, Like hiking through the Amazon or trekking across the Sahara desert, I can say with absolute certainty that there is very little out there that can surprise me. Even in the sport of professional wrestling, where anything can happen, there isn't much that can happen I'm not ready for."
"No, kids," He said ,"Even when you got the jump on me at the last Meltdown, It wasn't a surprise. What you did was what your kind always does and it's sad really. You could be so much more than the sum of your parts, but instead you choose to be petty thugs ganging up on one man. At the same time, I should see it as flattering. Yes, flattering, that you believe so little in yourselves that you used distraction and ambush tactics to get one over on me."
A small smile formed on his lips.
"Vano's your big smoking gun, but I did down him for a second. I can still nail the Busted Straight as hard on a big guy as I can on people my size and smaller. As I said, I've seen 'em and beat 'em and if I can't beat you in this special briefcase qualifier match, then I don't deserve to be wrestling in NAW. Period. I'll be seeing you on the 18th, Simple Simon, and I won't be smiling. I won't be joking. I'll be in that ring, kicking the living hell out of your pie crusted ass because, if you remember your history, Ass Kicking was and still is a big part of who I am."
With that, he rose and crossed his arms over his chest. On both hands, his index, pink, and thumbs were sticking out as his smile took on a dangerous look as he furrowed his brow. He then stepped off camera, the scene fading to black.