Post by Steve Orbit on Feb 1, 2014 12:49:39 GMT -5
Scene opens outside of Club Violet in Oakland, California. The three-story gentlemen's club, owned by Steve Orbit, is empty-- it's 8:30am. We see a white 2013 Ford Fusion pull in, stopping on the curb in front of the Club. WCF personality Freddy Whoa exits the vehicle and begins to walk towards the entrance of the building.
==
Inside the Club, we find ourself in the VIP area. Some smooth, old school brother shit plays softly in the background. "The Mack" Steve Orbit sits alone at the bar in a full zebra pimp suit, tons of gold, 'gator boots. He downs a glass of Hennessy on the rocks, before lighting a Black & Mild. He takes a few pulls and then places in the ashtray before sighing and rubbing his eyes.
==
Valencia, a stripper at the Club who Orbit has been spending lots of time with lately, is in the back room behind the bar. She's Latin American, young and petite with a rockin' body. There's a small pile of cocaine on the counter, next to a rolled up $100 bill and her driver's license. She seperates two lines from the pile with the license and puts the bill to her nose, sniffing a line in each nostril. She tilts her head back and inhales sharply. She starts humming to herself before exiting the room and joining Orbit in the VIP section. She enters from behind the bar and walks over to the liquor stock, taking a bottle of Hennessy and refilling Orbit's glass. After that, she puts the bottle to her head, taking a long swig.
Steve Orbit: You gonna pay for that, girl?
Valencia laughs.
Valencia: Take it out of my tips.
She puts the bottle back on the shelf.
Valencia: You gonna get some sleep or what?
Steve Orbit: Nah, fuck that. I got too much shit to do. Too much goin' on. Sleep is the cousin of death, plenty of time for that when I'm old and retired and shit.
Valencia: Shit to do? You haven't done shit but sit at the bar since last night.
Orbit chuckles to himself. He looks at his watch.
Steve Orbit: Besides, my boy is coming over to interview me. Should be here any minute.
Valencia: Well... if you're not going to sleep, you wanna do another line?
Steve Orbit: Shit... bust it out, baby.
Valencia smiles and heads to the back room. Orbit reaches into his pocket and takes out his bottle of 30mg Roxicet, a powerful opiate painkiller/narcotic. Don't worry, it's prescription. The man is in pain. He looks at the label, twirling the bottle between his fingers, the pills rattling around inside. Finally, he twists off the cap and dumps four of the small blue pills onto the bar. Valencia returns with the coke and her tools.
Steve Orbit: You want another one of these?
Valencia gives him the look like, "of course". She places the license and the bag of coke on the bar, next to the pills. Orbit covers the four pills with one hand, and with the other hand, takes the license and presses down on top of the pills. Gliding the plastic card back and forth over the pills, he grinds them into a powder. He splits the blue powder into four lines. Next to that, he dumps out a healthy pile of cocaine, and splits that into four lines. Satisfied, he takes the rolled-up $100 bill and does two lines of the Roxicet-- the burning sensation is written all over his face. After inhaling it down, he does two lines of the coke. Feeling nice, now. Real nice. He takes a drink from his glass of Hennessy as Valencia proceeds to sniff her lines of both substances.
==
Freddy Whoa knocks at the door. From the look of it, he's been knocking for a while. Frustrated, he tries the door-- it's unlocked. He lets himself in.
Freddy Whoa: Steve!
Freddy looks around. The backup recessed lighting is very dim.
Freddy Whoa: Mack! You here, bro?
==
Back upstairs in the VIP, Orbit takes a drag off of his Black & Mild. He looks wasted, out of his mind. Valencia is running around behind the bar for no apparent reason, fidgeting with whatever she can get her hands on. They hear Freddy's voice, faintly.
Steve Orbit: You hear somethin'?
Valencia: You trippin'. You just high.
Freddy's voice is heard again from downstairs.
Steve Orbit: Nah, that's Freddy. Freddy's here. Go get him for me.
Valencia pouts.
Valencia: Why do I have to go?
Steve Orbit: Because I said so, bitch. Just go. With your fucked up ass.
Valencia storms out of the room, heading down the stairs in the corner.
Steve Orbit: ... Ho.
Orbit chuckles to himself and takes another pull from the cigar.
==
Valencia returns, leading Freddy Whoa into the VIP section. Freddy is wearing his usual cheap suit and cheesy grin. He extends his hand as he approaches Orbit, who is now wearing a pair of dark sunglasses... presumably to hide the fact that he's high as a mother fucker. Orbit finishes wiping down the section of the bar in front of him, cleaning up the drug residue.
Freddy Whoa: Hey Steve, how you doin'?
Steve Orbit: I'm good, homie. Have a seat, man.
Freddy takes a seat next to Orbit. Orbit plays with his nose, sniffing sharply a few times and clearing his throat.
Steve Orbit: You want a drink?
Freddy gives Orbit a strange look.
Freddy Whoa: Nah, it's kinda early for me, bro.
Steve Orbit: Suit yourself.
Orbit takes another drink from his glass.
Freddy Whoa: You, uh... always drink like this?
Steve Orbit: Like what?
Freddy Whoa: Steve, it's like 9 AM. You been hangin' around with Jayson Price too much?
Orbit grins.
Steve Orbit: Heh, Pantheon questions already. You always prepared, huh? Truth is, I ain't been to sleep yet, Freddy. So this ain't really morning for me, you know what I'm sayin'?
Freddy leaves it alone.
Freddy Whoa: Right... so, anyway, sure you're good to go? For the interview, I mean?
Steve Orbit: Of course. Do your thing.
Freddy takes out a notepad and reviews his notes.
Freddy Whoa: Alright. Let's start with this. At Payback, Corey Black reformed Pantheon-- with Jayson Price, WCF World Champion Jonny Fly, and yourself. Had you discussed it with Corey at all before he called you guys out to the ring? How do you fit into Pantheon?
Steve Orbit: Well... to answer your first question, no. Corey asked me to come out to the ring that night, and because he's my homeboy, I went. I didn't know nothing about nobody else coming out. I thought maybe he wanted to get back with me and do the Two Bl+ack Dudes thing again. Honestly, I didn't know what the fuck he was gonna say, but like I said, he's my homie.
Freddy Whoa: So you were just as surprised as anyone when he announced that he wanted to start up Pantheon?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I was.
Freddy Whoa: And didn't you walk away? What was going through your mind at that time?
Steve Orbit: I didn't know what to think, man. I didn't like it. I didn't like being in the ring with Fly, I didn't like being put on the spot like that. Everybody saw what happened leading up to One-- what happened between me and Fly. We ain't exactly on good terms. I mean, a month ago we was gonna kill each other, you know what I'm sayin'? So it was awkward. To say the least, it was awkward.
Freddy Whoa: And what made you decide to go ahead and join in spite of that?
Steve Orbit: It's difficult to say, Freddy. I just... I trust Corey, man. Corey has some big plans, some big ideas that are bigger than me, bigger than my personal issues. The mother fucker wants me on his side, and I'm gonna be there. I'm cool with Price, got no problems with him. Corey told me that Fly is working on his shit, and who knows. Maybe it'll work out, maybe it won't.
Freddy Whoa: You don't sound too sure.
Orbit chuckles.
Steve Orbit: How can I be sure? This is professional wrestling we talkin' about. All I know is, right now, I think it's the right move for Steve Orbit. And I think Pantheon is the right move for the WCF as a whole. And I want to be a part of it, so I became a part of it.
Freddy looks at his notes again.
Freddy Whoa: So we'll see what the future holds for Steve Orbit and Pantheon. In the short term, you've got a match coming up this week against Jordan Caliban in the main event of Slam. This is Jordan's return to the company-- how did he end up in the main event against Steve Orbit?
Orbit sips from his glass.
Steve Orbit: Let me say this first. Jordan Caliban is not a main event mother fucker. Maybe some day, but at this point in his career, this has gotta be considered a gift to him. This is Steve Orbit reaching down and grabbing somebody and really putting them in a position to shine. So I hope he appreciates that. He should appreciate it. That being said, I'm just like everybody else, really. I'm tired of seeing this kid run his fuckin' mouth on social media. I don't have no delusions about shutting him up or anything like that. He gonna run his mouth until he ain't got no more breathe left in his lungs. That's the type of cat he is, a big mouth. What I want to do is, my goal is, to beat this mother fucker clean. Pin him in the middle of the ring, one, two, three. No excuses. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. After his match with Corey, all he's done is talk about how Corey had to stab him with the machete, Corey didn't beat his ass hard enough, he jumped Corey after the match so that means he won, and blah blah fuckity blah. I don't want to put him in that position with our match. Everybody knows Corey Black beats Jordan Caliban ten times out of ten, blade or no blade. Everybody know that shit. So I just wanna give the world another example of Jordan Caliban taking a loss-- and let's take a look at his reaction. Let's see if he takes it like a man and admits defeat, or if he comes up with some kinda excuse again.
Freddy Whoa: I mean... I'm just saying, theoretically, this is his return match... what if he beats you? Surely he won't want to squander his big return, in the main event no less.
Steve Orbit: If Jordan Caliban beats me... I dunno, Freddy. I might have to re-think what I'm doin' with my life.
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: I mean, that's not really a knock at Caliban, but who is he, really? He's some kid from the independent circuit. His first WCF run wasn't shit. He won the Internet title-- big fuckin' deal. And that ain't even what he's remembered for. He's famous for the way he exited the company. He got his ass whooped three times, by another nobody who's name I can't even remember, and then he bounced. Dipped. Broke the fuck out like a bitch. And now he's back, got beat by Corey, and now he's supposed to beat the Mack? How's that work? What's the mother fuckin'... thought process, the rationale for that to be something that might happen? It's foolish. It's ridiculous. I mean, I could get into who I am, I could break down Steve Orbit's mother fuckin' resume, you know what I'm sayin', but that ain't even necessary. Everybody know who I am and what I've accomplished here, and I don't appreciate this mother fucker comin' here and actin' like me, or any of my Pantheon brothers have been handed anything in this company. That's insulting to me, for real.
Freddy Whoa: That's a good lead-in to my next series of questions. I'd like to ask you how you feel about Caliban's "crusade" or "revolution" against what he perceives as the status quo of this company. He feels that guys like you and the rest of Pantheon are the old guard, you've had your time in the spotlight, and the WCF "machine" so to speak is supporting your success, and working against the new guys.
Orbit laughs, shaking his head.
Freddy Whoa: What's your take on all that?
Steve Orbit: Well, like I said, it's fuckin' ridiculous. Nobody could realistically consider me an old timer. I'm coming up on two years in this company. I'm thirty years old. How the fuck am I past my prime? I ain't even hit my mother fuckin' stride yet, I'm just gettin' warmed up. My career ain't even goin' full speed yet, and this mother fucker thinks it's time for me to step aside? He's delusional, man. He's just making shit up to try and get some heat. He thinks the fans are gonna get on his side, but he's wrong. The fans watch WCF to see the best that WCF has to offer. I have PROVEN myself to be among the best. I just fuckin' headlined ONE, after main eventing Slam every week for months. WCF promotes me because I deliver. The Mack is a draw, period. That's not a conspiracy, that's the reality of this business. I worked my ass off to get to that point, and to suggest that I don't belong where I'm at is... it's very insulting, man. It's very personal and insulting to me and I plan on showing Jordan Caliban just how insulted I feel when I'm whoopin' his ass in the ring.
Freddy Whoa: So you believe that he's purposely making this whole thing up to get attention?
Orbit considers the question, rubbing his chin.
Steve Orbit: I'ma tell you like this. He probably feels theres some truth to what he's sayin'. And let me tell you why. It's an attitude that I've seen in a lot of new guys. WCF hires the best of the mother fuckin' best. You don't get to the WCF unless you makin' some serious waves in the underground. Most of these guys, they're used to gettin' whatever they want. They're used to promoters kissin' they ass, they used to walkin' into a fed and being the most talented mother fucker in the room. So I think what happens is, these guys come to WCF, the big leagues, and they gotta start all over. They're not the best thing in the fed anymore. They aren't getting that type of special treatment that they used to, and that's why they come up with conspiracy theories and whatever else they wanna fuckin' talk about. What it comes down to is, one, being lazy. They don't wanna put in work in this company, they feel entitled and they feel like they should be able to get by on their prior reputation and experiences, which don't mean SHIT in this company. This ain't Booker Jim's Backyard Wrestling or some back woods, local company. This is the fuckin' big time, and whiners don't make it here. Crybabys don't make it here.
Freddy Whoa: You got into a small thing with another new guy, Lupus Onyx, on twitter-- after he said some things that were similar to what Caliban is saying, and you said he was "crying" about his loss. Do you have the same opinion of Lupus Onyx?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, Lupus Onyx is doin' the same shit. But he's takin' it further. He's just tryin' to piss people off so they'll pay attention to him. He saw Caliban bitch and moan his way into the fuckin' main event, and he probably said to himself, "why not me?" He thought by callin' me a fuckin' porch monkey and whatever else that I'd lose control of my emotions and challenge him to a match. I'm done with the handouts. I'm done with the giveaways. After this match with Caliban, I ain't gettin' in the ring with nobody unless they earn their spot. That's not me being scared, or that I'm not willing to give anybody a shot-- I just respect the process. I worked my way up from the bottom to the top, and nobody helped me. I did it the right way and the real way and I'm stronger for it. My career is better for it. I earn more because I worked hard, and my name carries more weight because I worked hard. I'm a better WRESTLER because I worked hard, I mean, ain't that what this is all about? Getting experience and working your way up? These guys got it all twisted, homie. For real. It's kinda pathetic.
Orbit lights another Black & Mild. He looks at his watch. His leg begins to shake nervously on the bar stool.
Freddy Whoa: Everything alright?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, cool-- we almost done?
Freddy Whoa: Yeah. Yeah, of course. Any last words for Caliban?
Steve Orbit: Jordan, no excuses, man. I'ma show you first hand why I'm in the position I'm in. I'm tired of listening to you make excuses for your own shortcomings, man. You and all the rest of y'all mother fuckers need to learn how to fall in line. Need to learn that there's a fuckin' order around here and y'all need to respect it. This is the big leagues now. If you want the top spot, earn it. Score some impressive wins. Win some titles. Don't just cry about where you're at. DO something about it, and I don't mean come up with conspiracy theories. Prove yourself in the ring, and until you do that... shut the fuck up, for real. Ain't nobody wanna hear that bullshit.
Orbit takes a long drag off of the cigar and slowly exhales the smoke.
Freddy Whoa: Alright, I won't take up any more of your time. Thanks a lot, Steve. Great seeing you, as always.
Steve Orbit: You too, homie, thanks for stoppin' by.
Freddy and Orbit shake hands before Freddy heads out of the room, walking down the stairs. Orbit waits until he's out of view.
Steve Orbit: Val!
We hear footsteps, and then Valencia enters the scene from the back room, behind the bar. She's wide-eyed and messing with her nose. Orbit slides his glass over to her.
Steve Orbit: Fix me another drink.
She takes the glass and searches for the Hennessy bottle. She pours the drink and returns to bottle to it's spot. She places the drink in front of Orbit, and then reaches under the bar and puts the bag of coke on the table. She looks at Orbit-- he nods, and she dumps out a small pile of the yellowish, off-white powder. She begins to chop it up with her license... and we'll leave it at that.
==
Inside the Club, we find ourself in the VIP area. Some smooth, old school brother shit plays softly in the background. "The Mack" Steve Orbit sits alone at the bar in a full zebra pimp suit, tons of gold, 'gator boots. He downs a glass of Hennessy on the rocks, before lighting a Black & Mild. He takes a few pulls and then places in the ashtray before sighing and rubbing his eyes.
==
Valencia, a stripper at the Club who Orbit has been spending lots of time with lately, is in the back room behind the bar. She's Latin American, young and petite with a rockin' body. There's a small pile of cocaine on the counter, next to a rolled up $100 bill and her driver's license. She seperates two lines from the pile with the license and puts the bill to her nose, sniffing a line in each nostril. She tilts her head back and inhales sharply. She starts humming to herself before exiting the room and joining Orbit in the VIP section. She enters from behind the bar and walks over to the liquor stock, taking a bottle of Hennessy and refilling Orbit's glass. After that, she puts the bottle to her head, taking a long swig.
Steve Orbit: You gonna pay for that, girl?
Valencia laughs.
Valencia: Take it out of my tips.
She puts the bottle back on the shelf.
Valencia: You gonna get some sleep or what?
Steve Orbit: Nah, fuck that. I got too much shit to do. Too much goin' on. Sleep is the cousin of death, plenty of time for that when I'm old and retired and shit.
Valencia: Shit to do? You haven't done shit but sit at the bar since last night.
Orbit chuckles to himself. He looks at his watch.
Steve Orbit: Besides, my boy is coming over to interview me. Should be here any minute.
Valencia: Well... if you're not going to sleep, you wanna do another line?
Steve Orbit: Shit... bust it out, baby.
Valencia smiles and heads to the back room. Orbit reaches into his pocket and takes out his bottle of 30mg Roxicet, a powerful opiate painkiller/narcotic. Don't worry, it's prescription. The man is in pain. He looks at the label, twirling the bottle between his fingers, the pills rattling around inside. Finally, he twists off the cap and dumps four of the small blue pills onto the bar. Valencia returns with the coke and her tools.
Steve Orbit: You want another one of these?
Valencia gives him the look like, "of course". She places the license and the bag of coke on the bar, next to the pills. Orbit covers the four pills with one hand, and with the other hand, takes the license and presses down on top of the pills. Gliding the plastic card back and forth over the pills, he grinds them into a powder. He splits the blue powder into four lines. Next to that, he dumps out a healthy pile of cocaine, and splits that into four lines. Satisfied, he takes the rolled-up $100 bill and does two lines of the Roxicet-- the burning sensation is written all over his face. After inhaling it down, he does two lines of the coke. Feeling nice, now. Real nice. He takes a drink from his glass of Hennessy as Valencia proceeds to sniff her lines of both substances.
==
Freddy Whoa knocks at the door. From the look of it, he's been knocking for a while. Frustrated, he tries the door-- it's unlocked. He lets himself in.
Freddy Whoa: Steve!
Freddy looks around. The backup recessed lighting is very dim.
Freddy Whoa: Mack! You here, bro?
==
Back upstairs in the VIP, Orbit takes a drag off of his Black & Mild. He looks wasted, out of his mind. Valencia is running around behind the bar for no apparent reason, fidgeting with whatever she can get her hands on. They hear Freddy's voice, faintly.
Steve Orbit: You hear somethin'?
Valencia: You trippin'. You just high.
Freddy's voice is heard again from downstairs.
Steve Orbit: Nah, that's Freddy. Freddy's here. Go get him for me.
Valencia pouts.
Valencia: Why do I have to go?
Steve Orbit: Because I said so, bitch. Just go. With your fucked up ass.
Valencia storms out of the room, heading down the stairs in the corner.
Steve Orbit: ... Ho.
Orbit chuckles to himself and takes another pull from the cigar.
==
Valencia returns, leading Freddy Whoa into the VIP section. Freddy is wearing his usual cheap suit and cheesy grin. He extends his hand as he approaches Orbit, who is now wearing a pair of dark sunglasses... presumably to hide the fact that he's high as a mother fucker. Orbit finishes wiping down the section of the bar in front of him, cleaning up the drug residue.
Freddy Whoa: Hey Steve, how you doin'?
Steve Orbit: I'm good, homie. Have a seat, man.
Freddy takes a seat next to Orbit. Orbit plays with his nose, sniffing sharply a few times and clearing his throat.
Steve Orbit: You want a drink?
Freddy gives Orbit a strange look.
Freddy Whoa: Nah, it's kinda early for me, bro.
Steve Orbit: Suit yourself.
Orbit takes another drink from his glass.
Freddy Whoa: You, uh... always drink like this?
Steve Orbit: Like what?
Freddy Whoa: Steve, it's like 9 AM. You been hangin' around with Jayson Price too much?
Orbit grins.
Steve Orbit: Heh, Pantheon questions already. You always prepared, huh? Truth is, I ain't been to sleep yet, Freddy. So this ain't really morning for me, you know what I'm sayin'?
Freddy leaves it alone.
Freddy Whoa: Right... so, anyway, sure you're good to go? For the interview, I mean?
Steve Orbit: Of course. Do your thing.
Freddy takes out a notepad and reviews his notes.
Freddy Whoa: Alright. Let's start with this. At Payback, Corey Black reformed Pantheon-- with Jayson Price, WCF World Champion Jonny Fly, and yourself. Had you discussed it with Corey at all before he called you guys out to the ring? How do you fit into Pantheon?
Steve Orbit: Well... to answer your first question, no. Corey asked me to come out to the ring that night, and because he's my homeboy, I went. I didn't know nothing about nobody else coming out. I thought maybe he wanted to get back with me and do the Two Bl+ack Dudes thing again. Honestly, I didn't know what the fuck he was gonna say, but like I said, he's my homie.
Freddy Whoa: So you were just as surprised as anyone when he announced that he wanted to start up Pantheon?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, I was.
Freddy Whoa: And didn't you walk away? What was going through your mind at that time?
Steve Orbit: I didn't know what to think, man. I didn't like it. I didn't like being in the ring with Fly, I didn't like being put on the spot like that. Everybody saw what happened leading up to One-- what happened between me and Fly. We ain't exactly on good terms. I mean, a month ago we was gonna kill each other, you know what I'm sayin'? So it was awkward. To say the least, it was awkward.
Freddy Whoa: And what made you decide to go ahead and join in spite of that?
Steve Orbit: It's difficult to say, Freddy. I just... I trust Corey, man. Corey has some big plans, some big ideas that are bigger than me, bigger than my personal issues. The mother fucker wants me on his side, and I'm gonna be there. I'm cool with Price, got no problems with him. Corey told me that Fly is working on his shit, and who knows. Maybe it'll work out, maybe it won't.
Freddy Whoa: You don't sound too sure.
Orbit chuckles.
Steve Orbit: How can I be sure? This is professional wrestling we talkin' about. All I know is, right now, I think it's the right move for Steve Orbit. And I think Pantheon is the right move for the WCF as a whole. And I want to be a part of it, so I became a part of it.
Freddy looks at his notes again.
Freddy Whoa: So we'll see what the future holds for Steve Orbit and Pantheon. In the short term, you've got a match coming up this week against Jordan Caliban in the main event of Slam. This is Jordan's return to the company-- how did he end up in the main event against Steve Orbit?
Orbit sips from his glass.
Steve Orbit: Let me say this first. Jordan Caliban is not a main event mother fucker. Maybe some day, but at this point in his career, this has gotta be considered a gift to him. This is Steve Orbit reaching down and grabbing somebody and really putting them in a position to shine. So I hope he appreciates that. He should appreciate it. That being said, I'm just like everybody else, really. I'm tired of seeing this kid run his fuckin' mouth on social media. I don't have no delusions about shutting him up or anything like that. He gonna run his mouth until he ain't got no more breathe left in his lungs. That's the type of cat he is, a big mouth. What I want to do is, my goal is, to beat this mother fucker clean. Pin him in the middle of the ring, one, two, three. No excuses. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. After his match with Corey, all he's done is talk about how Corey had to stab him with the machete, Corey didn't beat his ass hard enough, he jumped Corey after the match so that means he won, and blah blah fuckity blah. I don't want to put him in that position with our match. Everybody knows Corey Black beats Jordan Caliban ten times out of ten, blade or no blade. Everybody know that shit. So I just wanna give the world another example of Jordan Caliban taking a loss-- and let's take a look at his reaction. Let's see if he takes it like a man and admits defeat, or if he comes up with some kinda excuse again.
Freddy Whoa: I mean... I'm just saying, theoretically, this is his return match... what if he beats you? Surely he won't want to squander his big return, in the main event no less.
Steve Orbit: If Jordan Caliban beats me... I dunno, Freddy. I might have to re-think what I'm doin' with my life.
Orbit laughs.
Steve Orbit: I mean, that's not really a knock at Caliban, but who is he, really? He's some kid from the independent circuit. His first WCF run wasn't shit. He won the Internet title-- big fuckin' deal. And that ain't even what he's remembered for. He's famous for the way he exited the company. He got his ass whooped three times, by another nobody who's name I can't even remember, and then he bounced. Dipped. Broke the fuck out like a bitch. And now he's back, got beat by Corey, and now he's supposed to beat the Mack? How's that work? What's the mother fuckin'... thought process, the rationale for that to be something that might happen? It's foolish. It's ridiculous. I mean, I could get into who I am, I could break down Steve Orbit's mother fuckin' resume, you know what I'm sayin', but that ain't even necessary. Everybody know who I am and what I've accomplished here, and I don't appreciate this mother fucker comin' here and actin' like me, or any of my Pantheon brothers have been handed anything in this company. That's insulting to me, for real.
Freddy Whoa: That's a good lead-in to my next series of questions. I'd like to ask you how you feel about Caliban's "crusade" or "revolution" against what he perceives as the status quo of this company. He feels that guys like you and the rest of Pantheon are the old guard, you've had your time in the spotlight, and the WCF "machine" so to speak is supporting your success, and working against the new guys.
Orbit laughs, shaking his head.
Freddy Whoa: What's your take on all that?
Steve Orbit: Well, like I said, it's fuckin' ridiculous. Nobody could realistically consider me an old timer. I'm coming up on two years in this company. I'm thirty years old. How the fuck am I past my prime? I ain't even hit my mother fuckin' stride yet, I'm just gettin' warmed up. My career ain't even goin' full speed yet, and this mother fucker thinks it's time for me to step aside? He's delusional, man. He's just making shit up to try and get some heat. He thinks the fans are gonna get on his side, but he's wrong. The fans watch WCF to see the best that WCF has to offer. I have PROVEN myself to be among the best. I just fuckin' headlined ONE, after main eventing Slam every week for months. WCF promotes me because I deliver. The Mack is a draw, period. That's not a conspiracy, that's the reality of this business. I worked my ass off to get to that point, and to suggest that I don't belong where I'm at is... it's very insulting, man. It's very personal and insulting to me and I plan on showing Jordan Caliban just how insulted I feel when I'm whoopin' his ass in the ring.
Freddy Whoa: So you believe that he's purposely making this whole thing up to get attention?
Orbit considers the question, rubbing his chin.
Steve Orbit: I'ma tell you like this. He probably feels theres some truth to what he's sayin'. And let me tell you why. It's an attitude that I've seen in a lot of new guys. WCF hires the best of the mother fuckin' best. You don't get to the WCF unless you makin' some serious waves in the underground. Most of these guys, they're used to gettin' whatever they want. They're used to promoters kissin' they ass, they used to walkin' into a fed and being the most talented mother fucker in the room. So I think what happens is, these guys come to WCF, the big leagues, and they gotta start all over. They're not the best thing in the fed anymore. They aren't getting that type of special treatment that they used to, and that's why they come up with conspiracy theories and whatever else they wanna fuckin' talk about. What it comes down to is, one, being lazy. They don't wanna put in work in this company, they feel entitled and they feel like they should be able to get by on their prior reputation and experiences, which don't mean SHIT in this company. This ain't Booker Jim's Backyard Wrestling or some back woods, local company. This is the fuckin' big time, and whiners don't make it here. Crybabys don't make it here.
Freddy Whoa: You got into a small thing with another new guy, Lupus Onyx, on twitter-- after he said some things that were similar to what Caliban is saying, and you said he was "crying" about his loss. Do you have the same opinion of Lupus Onyx?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, Lupus Onyx is doin' the same shit. But he's takin' it further. He's just tryin' to piss people off so they'll pay attention to him. He saw Caliban bitch and moan his way into the fuckin' main event, and he probably said to himself, "why not me?" He thought by callin' me a fuckin' porch monkey and whatever else that I'd lose control of my emotions and challenge him to a match. I'm done with the handouts. I'm done with the giveaways. After this match with Caliban, I ain't gettin' in the ring with nobody unless they earn their spot. That's not me being scared, or that I'm not willing to give anybody a shot-- I just respect the process. I worked my way up from the bottom to the top, and nobody helped me. I did it the right way and the real way and I'm stronger for it. My career is better for it. I earn more because I worked hard, and my name carries more weight because I worked hard. I'm a better WRESTLER because I worked hard, I mean, ain't that what this is all about? Getting experience and working your way up? These guys got it all twisted, homie. For real. It's kinda pathetic.
Orbit lights another Black & Mild. He looks at his watch. His leg begins to shake nervously on the bar stool.
Freddy Whoa: Everything alright?
Steve Orbit: Yeah, cool-- we almost done?
Freddy Whoa: Yeah. Yeah, of course. Any last words for Caliban?
Steve Orbit: Jordan, no excuses, man. I'ma show you first hand why I'm in the position I'm in. I'm tired of listening to you make excuses for your own shortcomings, man. You and all the rest of y'all mother fuckers need to learn how to fall in line. Need to learn that there's a fuckin' order around here and y'all need to respect it. This is the big leagues now. If you want the top spot, earn it. Score some impressive wins. Win some titles. Don't just cry about where you're at. DO something about it, and I don't mean come up with conspiracy theories. Prove yourself in the ring, and until you do that... shut the fuck up, for real. Ain't nobody wanna hear that bullshit.
Orbit takes a long drag off of the cigar and slowly exhales the smoke.
Freddy Whoa: Alright, I won't take up any more of your time. Thanks a lot, Steve. Great seeing you, as always.
Steve Orbit: You too, homie, thanks for stoppin' by.
Freddy and Orbit shake hands before Freddy heads out of the room, walking down the stairs. Orbit waits until he's out of view.
Steve Orbit: Val!
We hear footsteps, and then Valencia enters the scene from the back room, behind the bar. She's wide-eyed and messing with her nose. Orbit slides his glass over to her.
Steve Orbit: Fix me another drink.
She takes the glass and searches for the Hennessy bottle. She pours the drink and returns to bottle to it's spot. She places the drink in front of Orbit, and then reaches under the bar and puts the bag of coke on the table. She looks at Orbit-- he nods, and she dumps out a small pile of the yellowish, off-white powder. She begins to chop it up with her license... and we'll leave it at that.
