Why Am I Here? Mar 16, 2011 21:55:36 GMT
Post by "The" Ross Walker on Mar 16, 2011 21:55:36 GMT
The following RP contains Jealousy tournament spoilers. If you actually care about that shit and want to wait for Pain to finish the results before finding out the winner, don't read on.
Why am I here?
It’s a question many people struggle with on a daily basis. During personal and professional conflicts, it’s usually one of the first things that jumps to the average person’s mind. Is their endeavour fruitless? Are their efforts all for nothing? Why is this particular event necessary? Would the world be better served if someone else was in their place?
Usually, it’s people who have little to no meaning in their life. Occasionally, it’s the rich and famous who struggle with it. Do they deserve their position? Are they making too much money? Could they be doing more to help others? Do their clothes make them look too fat? Or simply why do they need to do what they’re about to do? They’ve earned their position. They shouldn’t have to justify themselves for anyone.
Personally, I never struggle with this. I feel safe in the knowledge that I’ve earned my position, I’ve worked damn hard and made a lot of money for every company I’ve ever worked for, so I deserve to see a fair return on that, I do a lot of charity work, particularly in my local area, and let’s be honest, I have a body that looks good in anything. Great face, great hair, great abs, great arse, there’s really not much to fault about me, unless you’re not a tattoo person.
I’m sorry, I got caught up in my own attractiveness there for a second, what were we talking about again?
Oh yeah, now I remember. That question. Why am I here? Never before has it related to me in any way, never have I had to answer it, until now. You see, I’ve been entered into the Blizzard match. Twenty men (sometimes including some women) vying for a win in one of the most prestigious matches in FWF history, with the prize being more than just an entry into the annals of FWF history, as if that isn’t already enough. The winner earns a shot at the world title, the biggest prize in FWF with a rapidly changing name, at the most important event in FWF’s yearly calendar, Genesis. I can already hear you asking the question. What possible reason could I have for objecting to such an opportunity? It’s a perfectly valid question, to an uninformed observer. However, my answer is simple.
I won Jealousy.
Yeah, Jealousy. That other big event where the winner walks away with a world title shot. A shot I never received, because FWF management fucked the company up so badly, they couldn’t afford to run shows! Basically, I have a title shot in the bank. It’s contracted, iron clad, nobody can take it away from me. Which leads me back to my original question.
Why am I here?
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another FWF.com exclusive. I’m Linda Myles.”
Actually, I stand corrected. Whenever I have to do this, I always wonder what the fuck I did to have such pain and suffering inflicted upon me.
“I’m joined now by “The” Ross Walker, one of the twenty FWF warriors competing in the upcoming Blizzard match.”
“Whoa there, Linda. I’m not just an FWF warrior, am I? I am the ‘greatest wrestler to never hold a world title’, the most charismatic, athletic, and downright handsome warrior in FWF history. And I’m also your Jealousy winner, and your number one contender for the biggest prize in FWF.”
Get it right, bitch.
“So maybe you can try that again.”
Hah, look at her, shifting nervously. Then again, I’m not sure if it’s just nerves because of her fuckup, or also because of the fact that she still really, really, really wants to fuck me. To rip off The Beatles, “She wants me so baaaaaaaaaaad, it’s driving her maaaaaaaaad, it’s driving her mad.”
“Take a deep breath, Linda. Compose yourself, think about what you’re saying before you start.”
Ha, I love it when she fucks up my interviews. It’s so funny, watching her go from a picture of confidence to this awkward, stammering wreck of a woman. There we go, deep breath, reset, and... Take two.
“This is Linda Myles with another FWF.com exclusive. I’m joined right now by one of the most charismatic superstars in FWF, and the winner of the Jealousy tournament, “The” Ross Walker.”
Better. Could still use some more work, and the charismatic bit could be said with a little more conviction, but I’ll take it. I’m used to Linda’s barely average spiel by now, anyway.
“Ross, thank you for joining us today, I’m sure you must be very busy preparing for the upcoming Blizzard match.”
Yes. But you paid me to be here, and I need to shout at Farrell anyway. Plus, I’m in a Nando’s mood and there’s one nearby.
“Not at all, Linda, I always have time for you and the good people at FWF.com. Well, except the guy who screwed up my lunch order that one time, but I’m sure he was fired anyway.”
Or at least made to stay as far away from me as possible, the kid still has to earn a living, I suppose. But honestly, who confuses Caesar dressing with mayonnaise?
“I’m sure the question on everybody’s mind is, why are you in this match?”
Good question. Wait, Linda Myles, good, that just doesn’t sound right. Poor interviewer, horribly disorganised, and so, so awful in bed.
“Well Linda, I honestly don’t know. As the winner of the Jealousy tournament, I really should be preparing to compete for the world title right now. Instead, I’m competing for another shot. It makes no sense to anyone but FWF management, and rest assured, I’ll be getting some answers on that in the very near future.”
Wow, I sounded so wooden there. I really should have lightened that up with a penis joke. There’s never a bad time for a penis joke. Especially ones involving James Bohne.
“That’s good to hear. So, how do you rate your chances in this...”
Yeah, my hand’s in her face. She should really ask less shit questions. She looks pretty scared. I really wanna just shove her out of shot and take the microphone out of her hand. I shouldn’t though. Should I? Well, my hand is on the microphone now. When in Rome, as they say... But then again, it would have all kinds of militant lesbian feminist groups causing shit with me for putting my hands on a woman.
Fuck it, I love a good fight with the feminists.
“Linda, please, ask better questions next time, and I won’t be forced to do that.”
Great, now I have to interview myself. At least I know I won’t be subjected to inane questions. But who do I take the piss out of now? It’s times like these that I really miss Hermy, but I’m sure he and his family all died of starvation long ago. No civilisation in Guatemala. Shame, really, but life goes on.
“Now, I can get on with the business of giving the FWF fans exactly what they want. Pure, unadulterated Ross Walker. At least until I get bored and go somewhere else.”
I’ll give it about a minute before I go and tear Farrell or whoever’s in charge now a new one.
“Now, let’s see. Blizzard. The match is a prestigious one, somehow far more so than any other twenty man battle royal. Probably because of the flashy name. Yet, despite all this legacy, we’re stuck with a bunch of nobodies in this match. What the fuck is a lolz m8 anyway?”
Seriously, I’d love an explanation.
“Since this match appears to be nobodies, has-beens and Camisado, I’m not going to bother running people down, because I’d just be repeating myself nineteen times. Instead, let’s focus on my triumph. My Jealousy victory.”
If in doubt, self-indulgence always works a treat.
“If you weren’t aware, and I don’t blame you because FWF’s PR department was frankly awful in the summer, I won the Jealousy tournament. Yes, I can hear the shock. ‘Ross Walker actually won something prestigious?’ It’s no world title, but it’s a great achievement, and it brings me one step closer to joining past warriors who have achieved the distinguished rank of FWF Grandslammer. More importantly, it gives me another shot at finally vanquishing my world championship curse.”
Laziness, in truth. Curse works better, though.
“At least, it should. Yet somehow, it hasn’t. Christian Lee, the current champion, has a match. A non-title match. I requested that my title shot take place at the upcoming event, but my pleas were ignored. Instead, I’m being forced to earn another shot at the title. I only need one, for fuck’s sake!”
It’s only the Internet, I can swear all I want and not get a fine for it. Someone in FWF has to be ‘edgy’, after all.
“At first, it didn’t matter to me that I wasn’t getting the shot at the first show back, because I figured I could just receive it at Genesis. However, the winner of the Blizzard match is getting their shot at Genesis! And that just will not do. I’m not having anyone steal my moment, hog my spotlight. Genesis will be Christian Lee tapping out to the magnificent Anaconda Vice of “The” Ross Walker, and the lasting image will be of me, with my hands raised in victory, title belt around my waist, after a hard fought victory. Nobody is going to take that away from me. Not Camisado, not Joe Stall, not The Fizz, not that time changing guy, not Dynamite D, NOBODY!”
Though I would like to go for the tag titles with Dynamite D. Just saying.
“I have spent five long years in FWF. Five years, I’ve waited for this moment. Five years, and nobody will take this from me. I will win at Blizzard, I will ensure I have nobody standing between me and Christian Lee, and I will take what is rightfully mine. I am the uncrowned champion, I am your worst nightmare, I am Newcastle’s finest, I do have abs of steel and an arse that won’t quit, I am “The” Ross Walker! And of course, I am...”
Hungry. I used that before, but it’s true again. I need that Nando’s. Farrell can pay. I’m getting my card stamped though, I’m only two off a free whole chicken.
“Better Than You!”
Probably shouldn’t have thrown the mic at the camera just there. Made a fucking great sound though. I hope they use static effects and all that shit when they upload it. More importantly, I hope they got my good side. They should have. The camera guys know their shit, they have a good understanding with me. Except that one guy Linda sticks in my face for a surprise interview from time to time. Then again, he hasn’t done that since the last time, when I broke his nose. That was over a year ago. Maybe he’s learned. Anyway, I have business to conduct.
“Now, where the hell is Farrell?”
I thought I heard a voice. But, nah, it couldn’t be. Most of the guys know not to talk to me when I’m in a mood. There was this one girl on work experience, but she hadn’t said a word the whole time I was there. She wouldn’t have spoke up.
Okay, maybe I called that one a little early. She’d better have something good to say.
That was a bit harsh, but then again, it’s more than I’ve said to most of the other work experience kids. Usually, they cower away in the corner, in fear of doing anything wrong.
“Mr Farrell’s out to lunch, sir.”
She had better be taking the fucking piss. The bald son of a bitch was meant to be buying my Nando’s.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake... Do you know where?”
“I’m not sure, sir, but he said he’d be gone for at least two hours. Do you want to leave a message for him?”
I WANT MY FUCKING TITLE SHOT. AND MY FREE NANDO’S.
“Oh, no, I’ll have to catch him another time. Private business, you see.”
Actually, this girl isn’t half bad. Bit young, but she’s definitely eighteen, at least. FWF hiring policy and my own well-trained eyes dictate that.
“Do you like Nando’s?”
She did. We went. She turned out to be useful, charged it to the company accounts. Also, most importantly, she was better in bed than Linda Myles. Free food and sex? I’ll take it. Just like I’ll take the Blizzard match by storm, and claim my rightful place as the sole contender to Christian Lee’s title. Why am I here? Honestly, I still don’t know. But while I’m here, I might as well get the job done.