Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2012 14:07:43 GMT -5
Sunday January 29th, 2012
09:00am
The scene fades in on Jay Price sprawled out on top of his bed, still dressed in the clothes he was wearing last night. The sound of his alarm clock buzzing from the nightstand causes him to stir and raise his head from the pillow. He looks at the clock, mutters something incoherent and then pushes the clock off the table, sending it sliding across the floor. And with that, Price's head hits the pillow once again.
The scene fades out.
Sunday January 29th, 2012
12:30pm
The scene fades back in and Price is still all but dead to the world as he lies in bed, snoring lightly. His phone rings, this would be the sixth time in the last hour, and he lifts his head up and turns it toward the source of the noise. With a groan he rolls himself over to the side of the bed and retrieves his cell phone from the floor. He takes a look at the caller ID and chooses to ignore the call. A few moments later the phone beeps as the call goes to voicemail. He goes to set the phone back down when it begins to ring again. He checks the caller ID.
Hank Brown
With a sigh, Price answers the call and sets it to speakerphone as he lies back down.
Jay Price: Yeah Hank?
Hank Brown: Price? Where the hell are you? I told you yesterday that the media event for tonight started at 9 and I haven't seen you yet. Management is going to be pissed if they find out you no showed.
Jay Price: ...and I care why?
Hank Brown: Why? Price, I get it, you've got this issue with Seth. But you have an obligation to the paying fans to come and do the meet and greets just like everyone else. For Christs sake, I just saw Corey Black signing autographs. And he's notorious for not giving a shit.
Jay Price: Yeah, well I'm busy at the moment.
Hank Brown: *sigh* Price you need to get down here. I haven't seen any of the big shots walking around yet, but you can be sure they will be. And if they find out you aren't here...
Jay Price: What are they going to do Hank? Drop me to bottom of the card? Oh wait, they already did that. Threaten to never give me another title shot? Oh wait, they did that too. Look, Hank, you have to realize that I'm at the point where my level of giving a fuck is about as low as you can get. I'm just going to keep showing up for my matches, do my thing and then collect my check.
Hank Brown: And what if they fire you?
Jay Price: That's the beauty of it Hank. We all know Seth's notorious habit of writing up bad contracts. Well, bad for him that is. My contract has a clause in it that keeps me protected from being fired. I had Seth put that one in there as my way of an insurance policy. You know, just in case.
Hank Brown: All right Price, do what you want. I still suggest that you get down here though.
Jay Price: Meh, I'll think about it.
And with that Price hangs up and gives the phone a toss into the nearby clothes hamper. He then pulls the blankets up over his head and goes back to sleep.
The scene fades back out.
Sunday January 29th, 2012
05:45pm
The scene fades back in on Price, now sitting in the backseat of a limousine as the cameraman sits in the seat opposite of him. Price is sitting with his head leaning against the glass as he stares out at the passing buildings and cars through his dark sunglasses. He takes a sip of the drink that he's been nursing since he left his house and then turns his attention to the camera.
Jay Price: You know, I really don't know what it is that keeps drawing me back to this place. To be honest, I don't even know what drew me to it in the first place. Maybe it was because I was a young kid just trying to find a way to break into the business. Or maybe it was because WCF seemed like the only place willing to give a guy fresh off of the streets a chance to do what he always wanted to do. But whatever it was, when I first came into WCF I felt like this place was already my home. I may not have been welcomed right away with open arms, but nobody could have doubted that I was treated like I had been there forever on day one. And it was like that everytime I walked through those doors. When Logan nearly broke my neck and I had to leave for a few months, it killed me a little bit inside. But then when I came back, there was everyone ready to welcome me back and tell me how much I had been missed. The times I had to leave to deal with my personal demons, I was always treated like an old friend as soon as I returned.
But now, it's nothing like it was. When I came back from my brief retirement for XIII, I was greeted with blank stares and hushed whispers by people that I didn't even recognize. The entire landscape of the WCF had changed and it seemed like all the members of the old guard had left, only to be replaced by a crop of new talent. And the older guys that were still around, they acted like they didn't even realize that I had ever left. Finally, just to put the icing on the cake, I come back to find that those in charge have decided that I'm not worth their time anymore. Back in the day I could have said anything I wanted about anyone, and nobody gave a shit. Now, I try and vent about some real issues, personal issues, concerning a certain person at the top of the ladder and suddenly I'm being treated like an outcast. Cast aside and being forced to open PPV's like I'm a rookie all over again. And it's all bullshit. I know I'm not a veteran with the history like Creeping Death or Logan or Gravedigger, but I've put in over two years with this company and for me to be forced to curtain jerk a PPV...I'd have preferred to be left off the show all together.
But if Seth Lerch wants to treat me like this, under-utilizing my talent and drawing power just to stroke his own ego, then so be it. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's gotten under my skin by no showing. I'm not going to let him think he's won this war by quitting. I'm going to go out there tonight and I'm going to do what I've done every other time I laced up my boots and stepped into a ring. And if Seth Lerch wants to just keep doing this week after week, putting me in makeshift matches and keeping me from achieving anything of worth, then so be it. I'll just keep going out to that ring, week after week, and keep getting paid to do what I do better than anyone else in this company.
Price pauses for a moment as he takes another sip of his drink.
Jay Price: You know, it really is a shame though. I think back to that first day and all I can remember is that chill that went through my body the first time I heard my music play. I can't even remember what song it was that I had them play, but I do remember walking through that curtain and seeing an audience for the first time. It was so...surreal. And the reactions were just something so refreshing. It was like a drug and I couldn't get enough of it. Cheers or boos, I ate them up. And then the first time I won a title, when I was holding that gold in my hands, it was as if my dream had come true. A culmination of all the work and effort I had been putting in each week had finally come together and resulted in one glorious moment. And I wanted more.
And everyone knows the stories. Winning the Hardcore Championship in a Clockwork Orange House of Fun Match. Teaming up with Tank Reaper to win the Tag Titles. And people can say what they want, but I'm still the only person that's ever simultaneously held the Elite Title and People's Title at the same time.
But of course none of that matters if you ask around the locker room. Bring up all the titles and accomplishments and the first thing you'll hear is "And how many World Titles has he held?". And the answers none. It's not secret. Hell for the longest time the joke was that the World Title was my kryptonite and that's why I could never get near it. And maybe they're right. The closest I've ever gotten was at Ten when I was thrown into the 6 Man Match for the Title. And who knows, maybe if Logan hadn't found a way to get involved I could have won, but we'll never know. And I could always make the argument that I've never really had a clear opportunity to challenge for the belt, but in my mind I know that it's mostly my own fault for that. In the past I always seemed to end up screwing myself over just as it seemed like I was getting ready to make that leap. Whether it was retiring early because I was just too exhausted mentally to keep going, or choosing to deal with petty personal issues when I should have been focused on my career, I always ended up holding myself back.
Price again pauses to take a sip of his drink.
Cameraman: So what's different about you now?
Jay Price: What's different? I'm older. I'm no longer that kid who walked into WCF two years ago, an ego the size of Texas and all these ideas about what he should be handed. Corey Black, a guy who's been around forever it seems, himself has said that he thinks of me as a veteran because of all the shit I've been through since I started. And he's right. I've been a part of two mega factions, fought against and with guys that are either in the Hall Of Fame or deserving of a place in the Hall, won countless matches and set records that may never be broken or, at the least, equaled. My god, I've done things in two years that some people have to wait an entire career to accomplish. So you want to know what's different about me now? I've got a clear and focused mind and only one thing that I have my eyes set on. The World Title.
I'm tired of the jokes, the insults, the hushed whispers and everything else. I'm ready now more than ever to hoist that fifteen pounds of gold up in the air and sling it over my shoulder so I can walk around with my held high. There's just one issue.
Cameraman: Seth Lerch.
Price nods and then takes a sip of his drink, finishing it off.
Jay Price: I may have shot myself in the foot more than ever this time by going after the boss, but I'm not backing down. If I have to spend the next five years scraping and clawing my way to the top, I'll do it. I'll work every house show, curtain jerk every Slam and every PPV and do whatever else bullshit thrown at me until I reach the main event scene again. And if Seth thinks that he can break me, make me want to give up and walk out of WCF, then he's sorely mistaken. I'm here for the long haul and I will not rest until my name is engraved on the World Title belt.
Which brings us to tonight. Payback. Quite fitting really if you think about it. I'm scheduled to open the show against a no-name rookie, Seth's obvious punishment for me for the things I've said and done the last few weeks. Well, a punishment in his eyes at least. I really don't see it that way. Seth thinks that he's getting back at me, when all he's really doing is paying me to beat up on some poor sap for five minutes and then go home. It's not even a challenge. I mean he could have at least made it somewhat difficult. Make it a handicap match. Put a blindfold on me. Anything at all really. But no, instead he hands me a win on a silver platter in the form of poor Deonte West.
And you know what, I feel bad for the kid. I really do. I remember my debut match and I remember wanting so badly to go out and get the win so I could make the right impression. And I'm sure Deonte wants to do just that. His head is probably full of thoughts about how he's going to celebrate after the match, all the people he's going to call and talk about the match with. But tonight...it's just not his night. The old expression "at the wrong place at the wrong time" comes to mind when I think about the kid, because tonight in that ring with me is the last place this kid will want to be if he's looking to start his career off on the right foot. I've ended Hall Of Fame careers and tonight I might just end a career before it even has a chance to begin.
And it's a shame really. I'm sure the kid has gobs of talent and will be successful as fuck, but tonight, he's going to have to chalk up a loss courtesy of Seth Lerch and his idea of what "punishment" really is.
The limousine comes to a stop in front of the entrance to the Wells Fargo Arena. Price looks out at the group of fans who have already shown up for the show and are now waiting in anticipation to see who just arrived in the limo. With a sigh he pushes the door open and steps out, drawing a huge cheer from the Philly crowd. The scene fades out as Price pushes the door shut, the last sounds heard being a massive "Jay Fucking Price" chant.
09:00am
The scene fades in on Jay Price sprawled out on top of his bed, still dressed in the clothes he was wearing last night. The sound of his alarm clock buzzing from the nightstand causes him to stir and raise his head from the pillow. He looks at the clock, mutters something incoherent and then pushes the clock off the table, sending it sliding across the floor. And with that, Price's head hits the pillow once again.
The scene fades out.
Sunday January 29th, 2012
12:30pm
The scene fades back in and Price is still all but dead to the world as he lies in bed, snoring lightly. His phone rings, this would be the sixth time in the last hour, and he lifts his head up and turns it toward the source of the noise. With a groan he rolls himself over to the side of the bed and retrieves his cell phone from the floor. He takes a look at the caller ID and chooses to ignore the call. A few moments later the phone beeps as the call goes to voicemail. He goes to set the phone back down when it begins to ring again. He checks the caller ID.
Hank Brown
With a sigh, Price answers the call and sets it to speakerphone as he lies back down.
Jay Price: Yeah Hank?
Hank Brown: Price? Where the hell are you? I told you yesterday that the media event for tonight started at 9 and I haven't seen you yet. Management is going to be pissed if they find out you no showed.
Jay Price: ...and I care why?
Hank Brown: Why? Price, I get it, you've got this issue with Seth. But you have an obligation to the paying fans to come and do the meet and greets just like everyone else. For Christs sake, I just saw Corey Black signing autographs. And he's notorious for not giving a shit.
Jay Price: Yeah, well I'm busy at the moment.
Hank Brown: *sigh* Price you need to get down here. I haven't seen any of the big shots walking around yet, but you can be sure they will be. And if they find out you aren't here...
Jay Price: What are they going to do Hank? Drop me to bottom of the card? Oh wait, they already did that. Threaten to never give me another title shot? Oh wait, they did that too. Look, Hank, you have to realize that I'm at the point where my level of giving a fuck is about as low as you can get. I'm just going to keep showing up for my matches, do my thing and then collect my check.
Hank Brown: And what if they fire you?
Jay Price: That's the beauty of it Hank. We all know Seth's notorious habit of writing up bad contracts. Well, bad for him that is. My contract has a clause in it that keeps me protected from being fired. I had Seth put that one in there as my way of an insurance policy. You know, just in case.
Hank Brown: All right Price, do what you want. I still suggest that you get down here though.
Jay Price: Meh, I'll think about it.
And with that Price hangs up and gives the phone a toss into the nearby clothes hamper. He then pulls the blankets up over his head and goes back to sleep.
The scene fades back out.
Sunday January 29th, 2012
05:45pm
The scene fades back in on Price, now sitting in the backseat of a limousine as the cameraman sits in the seat opposite of him. Price is sitting with his head leaning against the glass as he stares out at the passing buildings and cars through his dark sunglasses. He takes a sip of the drink that he's been nursing since he left his house and then turns his attention to the camera.
Jay Price: You know, I really don't know what it is that keeps drawing me back to this place. To be honest, I don't even know what drew me to it in the first place. Maybe it was because I was a young kid just trying to find a way to break into the business. Or maybe it was because WCF seemed like the only place willing to give a guy fresh off of the streets a chance to do what he always wanted to do. But whatever it was, when I first came into WCF I felt like this place was already my home. I may not have been welcomed right away with open arms, but nobody could have doubted that I was treated like I had been there forever on day one. And it was like that everytime I walked through those doors. When Logan nearly broke my neck and I had to leave for a few months, it killed me a little bit inside. But then when I came back, there was everyone ready to welcome me back and tell me how much I had been missed. The times I had to leave to deal with my personal demons, I was always treated like an old friend as soon as I returned.
But now, it's nothing like it was. When I came back from my brief retirement for XIII, I was greeted with blank stares and hushed whispers by people that I didn't even recognize. The entire landscape of the WCF had changed and it seemed like all the members of the old guard had left, only to be replaced by a crop of new talent. And the older guys that were still around, they acted like they didn't even realize that I had ever left. Finally, just to put the icing on the cake, I come back to find that those in charge have decided that I'm not worth their time anymore. Back in the day I could have said anything I wanted about anyone, and nobody gave a shit. Now, I try and vent about some real issues, personal issues, concerning a certain person at the top of the ladder and suddenly I'm being treated like an outcast. Cast aside and being forced to open PPV's like I'm a rookie all over again. And it's all bullshit. I know I'm not a veteran with the history like Creeping Death or Logan or Gravedigger, but I've put in over two years with this company and for me to be forced to curtain jerk a PPV...I'd have preferred to be left off the show all together.
But if Seth Lerch wants to treat me like this, under-utilizing my talent and drawing power just to stroke his own ego, then so be it. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's gotten under my skin by no showing. I'm not going to let him think he's won this war by quitting. I'm going to go out there tonight and I'm going to do what I've done every other time I laced up my boots and stepped into a ring. And if Seth Lerch wants to just keep doing this week after week, putting me in makeshift matches and keeping me from achieving anything of worth, then so be it. I'll just keep going out to that ring, week after week, and keep getting paid to do what I do better than anyone else in this company.
Price pauses for a moment as he takes another sip of his drink.
Jay Price: You know, it really is a shame though. I think back to that first day and all I can remember is that chill that went through my body the first time I heard my music play. I can't even remember what song it was that I had them play, but I do remember walking through that curtain and seeing an audience for the first time. It was so...surreal. And the reactions were just something so refreshing. It was like a drug and I couldn't get enough of it. Cheers or boos, I ate them up. And then the first time I won a title, when I was holding that gold in my hands, it was as if my dream had come true. A culmination of all the work and effort I had been putting in each week had finally come together and resulted in one glorious moment. And I wanted more.
And everyone knows the stories. Winning the Hardcore Championship in a Clockwork Orange House of Fun Match. Teaming up with Tank Reaper to win the Tag Titles. And people can say what they want, but I'm still the only person that's ever simultaneously held the Elite Title and People's Title at the same time.
But of course none of that matters if you ask around the locker room. Bring up all the titles and accomplishments and the first thing you'll hear is "And how many World Titles has he held?". And the answers none. It's not secret. Hell for the longest time the joke was that the World Title was my kryptonite and that's why I could never get near it. And maybe they're right. The closest I've ever gotten was at Ten when I was thrown into the 6 Man Match for the Title. And who knows, maybe if Logan hadn't found a way to get involved I could have won, but we'll never know. And I could always make the argument that I've never really had a clear opportunity to challenge for the belt, but in my mind I know that it's mostly my own fault for that. In the past I always seemed to end up screwing myself over just as it seemed like I was getting ready to make that leap. Whether it was retiring early because I was just too exhausted mentally to keep going, or choosing to deal with petty personal issues when I should have been focused on my career, I always ended up holding myself back.
Price again pauses to take a sip of his drink.
Cameraman: So what's different about you now?
Jay Price: What's different? I'm older. I'm no longer that kid who walked into WCF two years ago, an ego the size of Texas and all these ideas about what he should be handed. Corey Black, a guy who's been around forever it seems, himself has said that he thinks of me as a veteran because of all the shit I've been through since I started. And he's right. I've been a part of two mega factions, fought against and with guys that are either in the Hall Of Fame or deserving of a place in the Hall, won countless matches and set records that may never be broken or, at the least, equaled. My god, I've done things in two years that some people have to wait an entire career to accomplish. So you want to know what's different about me now? I've got a clear and focused mind and only one thing that I have my eyes set on. The World Title.
I'm tired of the jokes, the insults, the hushed whispers and everything else. I'm ready now more than ever to hoist that fifteen pounds of gold up in the air and sling it over my shoulder so I can walk around with my held high. There's just one issue.
Cameraman: Seth Lerch.
Price nods and then takes a sip of his drink, finishing it off.
Jay Price: I may have shot myself in the foot more than ever this time by going after the boss, but I'm not backing down. If I have to spend the next five years scraping and clawing my way to the top, I'll do it. I'll work every house show, curtain jerk every Slam and every PPV and do whatever else bullshit thrown at me until I reach the main event scene again. And if Seth thinks that he can break me, make me want to give up and walk out of WCF, then he's sorely mistaken. I'm here for the long haul and I will not rest until my name is engraved on the World Title belt.
Which brings us to tonight. Payback. Quite fitting really if you think about it. I'm scheduled to open the show against a no-name rookie, Seth's obvious punishment for me for the things I've said and done the last few weeks. Well, a punishment in his eyes at least. I really don't see it that way. Seth thinks that he's getting back at me, when all he's really doing is paying me to beat up on some poor sap for five minutes and then go home. It's not even a challenge. I mean he could have at least made it somewhat difficult. Make it a handicap match. Put a blindfold on me. Anything at all really. But no, instead he hands me a win on a silver platter in the form of poor Deonte West.
And you know what, I feel bad for the kid. I really do. I remember my debut match and I remember wanting so badly to go out and get the win so I could make the right impression. And I'm sure Deonte wants to do just that. His head is probably full of thoughts about how he's going to celebrate after the match, all the people he's going to call and talk about the match with. But tonight...it's just not his night. The old expression "at the wrong place at the wrong time" comes to mind when I think about the kid, because tonight in that ring with me is the last place this kid will want to be if he's looking to start his career off on the right foot. I've ended Hall Of Fame careers and tonight I might just end a career before it even has a chance to begin.
And it's a shame really. I'm sure the kid has gobs of talent and will be successful as fuck, but tonight, he's going to have to chalk up a loss courtesy of Seth Lerch and his idea of what "punishment" really is.
The limousine comes to a stop in front of the entrance to the Wells Fargo Arena. Price looks out at the group of fans who have already shown up for the show and are now waiting in anticipation to see who just arrived in the limo. With a sigh he pushes the door open and steps out, drawing a huge cheer from the Philly crowd. The scene fades out as Price pushes the door shut, the last sounds heard being a massive "Jay Fucking Price" chant.
