Post by Teo Blaze on Mar 3, 2019 23:25:15 GMT -5
The sun glinted through the window like a welcoming ray of happiness as Teo slowly opened his eyes, the blurry details of the room swimming about his consciousness like so many fish in a bowl. There was, as usual, the persistent headache that came from a week of battle, but the dull pounding did little to deter his mood.
The hotel room was small, the way he had always preferred if he was being honest with himself, a single bed and the typical furnishing. A small padded chair with a long slice along the fabric, leaking stuffing as though it were from an open wound. A plywood desk with a telephone straight out of the 1960’s and a table lamp that looked just as likely to throw sparks into the air as actually provide any notable light.
While some would call the accommodations meager, in his heart he knew that he wouldn’t have it any other way. For as many years as he had spent on the road, he had grown accustomed to a certain...style of living. On his salary there was no doubt that he could easily have woken up in a 5-star suite on the top floor of a lavish hotel, with a chilled bottle of champagne on one side and a beautiful girl on the other. Bright, polished brass furnishings and egyptian cotton sheets wrapped around a mattress stuffed with goose down and hundred dollar bills.
But that just wasn’t him.
It wasn’t about his bank account, though he had to admit that he did like seeing the nest egg he’d put aside, but wealth and extravagance had just...never really held the same siren call for him that so many of his compatriots seemed to hear.
As cliche as it may sound to some, the reward had never been his thought when he first stepped through that curtain in 2015. He had never pictured himself as a champion, much less breaking records that had stood unchallenged for years.
What he wanted to do, above all else, was to find a way to give back to the people around him. To thank those fans, those wide-eyed souls who populated the arenas each and every week without hesitation, who would throw a week’s wages into Teo’s pocket just for the chance, the opportunity, some would even say the privilege to be part of history. To say they were there when.
Teo chuckled to himself, thinking happily about the scene, about the wide-eyed child in the third row holding a lump of cotton candy bigger than their torso completely enraptured by the symphony of beautiful violence occurring before his eyes, as larger than life titans battled tooth and nail over prizes so great, so valuable that it was worth risking pain, suffering, even risking lives to hold.
In those wide eyes, heroes were real.
It is a classic story, Teo thought to himself, but it never truly got old.
And as much as he loved that look, that rapturous feeling, he had to admit there was something else.
He loved the challenge.
Each and every week, knowing that there was someone new waiting, someone skilled, vicious, or even dangerous walking down that ramp. The only guarantee each week was that they were a threat.
Teo chuckled to himself at the thought, as much as he loved that feeling of victory, that rush of emotion when the referee held his hand high, as much as he loved the fact that sitting right at the foot of his bed were not one, but two championships… that uncertainty thrilled him. He knew that any week could be one of the most painful, humiliating experiences of his life, that he could be broken, thrown around like a ragdoll, or even left unable to walk.
Any man, on any night, with the right opportunity, could destroy everything Teo had worked for.
And even as he thought of that possibility, he felt his heart begin to beat faster, his breath quickening as a spike of adrenaline shot through him.
The sound of that bell was an addiction.
Each and every instant he stood in that ring, he felt...alive. He felt so many emotions, so many wildly differing feelings that it was borderline indescribable. Joy, pain, exhilaration, fear, desire, anger...all coalescing in an instant, in a do or die moment of true bliss.
It was torture to leave the ring. It was pain to be lying in wait, in anticipation of returning between those ropes, of feeling that feeling once again.
And that...that was why Teo never really cared where he slept. Whether in a four-star hotel surrounded by every luxury in the world, or a Holiday Inn that charged extra if you wanted breakfast, it didn’t matter.
All that existed was in that ring, and everything outside of it was a blur.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The scene has changed dramatically from the small, well-worn hotel room. The Television Champion now stands in a very peculiar location. Near the top of what appears to be a high building, a set of long steel cables stretches down from the edge of the roof. The camera slowly pans down along the mirrored surface of numerous windows, following the cables before coming to a stop on a small platform, a device normally used for washing windows.
And sure enough, leaning against the safety railing of this contraption is Teo Blaze, wearing his typical outfit, blue jeans and a black T-shirt with a dark red jacket. The midday sun reflects in the lenses of his glasses and the shining gold of the Television Championship over his shoulder sparkles as brightly as ever.
Teo smiles, a toothpick between his teeth, and slowly turns, looking at the camera with a grin as he removes it and carelessly tosses it over the side, where it tumbles down many stories to the empty sidewalk below.
Teo Blaze: How you doing, Scotty? Been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve certainly been working on your look, and I gotta say I’m a fan. You are a damn sight sharper without the leash.
The sarcasm in Teo’s voice is immediately apparent, his tone somewhat relaxed, yet there still is a detectable edge to his words, as though despite his comments, he is focused very much on his opponent for the coming week.
Teo Blaze: Last time we met in the ring you were the weak link in the chain of failures known kindly as the Kennedy Matthews experiment, and quite frankly being the weak link in that particular partnership is something that is almost as impressive as it is depressing. I mean, really, between you and me, were you trying to fail? Anything to make KM look a little better, right? Just go out there and lay down so that we keep her from getting her shoulders dirty...right?
Cause let me tell you Scotty...if that was you putting in your actual 100%? Hoooo boy are we about to have a problem.
See, I am not sure if you’ve signed all of the proper paperwork for this match. Do you even have a will made out? Because if that is Scott Slayer at his best, then you’re going to fucking need one.
Let me spell if out for you, so that even a Stupid, Crying, Overtly Terrible Toddler Seemingly Lazy And Yet Equally Repulsive individual like yourself can understand.
This right here?
Teo taps the Television championship with two fingers with an audible sound.
Teo Blaze: You don’t want this.
You think you want this.
You don’t want this.
Tell me Scott, when you were putting your name on that dotted line last week, when you were signing that precious little signature, did you have any idea, any semblance of what you were putting your name down for?
Do you realize what I do to people, Scott?
Because it’s not pretty. It’s barely something that they can air on television.
I don’t beat people, Scott. I hurt people. When I’m in that ring? I don’t see an opponent, hell, I barely see a human being.
I see an obstacle to overcome. I see a target to be reached. I see a problem to be destroyed.
That is what I do, Scott.
The moment that bell rings, the moment that the referee says “go”...that’s when it starts for you.
That’s when you realize just how big of a mistake you’ve made.
I’ve seen that look many times, Scott.
You know the one.
That wide-eyed expression, that moment of realization after the first time I tattoo my knuckles right across your jaw, when after one shot you realize just what you’re in for. You see Scott, I don’t discriminate. You may be a walking, talking example of failure, a hand-printed instruction manual of what not to do in a wrestling ring, but if you think for a moment, for a second, for a fucking instant that you get a pass because of sympathy...oh child.
The moment you put your name on that dotted line, you threw sympathy right out the window, Scott.
Teo holds out his arms and the camera slowly pans out, the mirrored surface of the skyscraper reflecting the bright sun. The glare is almost blinding as the camera passes over apex of the shine.
Teo Blaze: Tell me Scott, do you feel it? Do you feel the radiant, beautiful, rays of destruction? I’ve often been asked about why I feel so drawn to the sun, to flame, to fire. Let me tell you a little secret right now.
Just like the sun on these windows, just like the fire that burns inside me, just like the bright heat of battle that we face in and out, week after week, I strive to embody one guiding principle, one ever-present truth of this great big universe, and that is that to create, you must first destroy.
There has never been a man made stronger by conquering that which he did not fear! There has never been a legend who won every battle he ever fought, nor fought with the understanding that his opponent had no chance of victory!
We grow stronger only by facing that which we do not understand, that which we cannot predict, in overcoming the challenges that are impossible, Scott!
And that is why this week, I am going to beat you Scott. I don’t mean pinning your shoulders down either, I mean physically punishing you with every ounce of my being, in throwing every single tool in my arsenal at you! I mean pummeling you senseless like my own personal punching bag until you start to wonder if I even will let you walk out of the arena alive!
That is good, Scott.
You should be afraid.
Feel it, embrace it...use it. I don’t want to see the Scott Slayer driven by ego, who lets his own inflated sense of self-worth drag him down week after week of humiliating losses, who manages to somehow drive expectations of him lower than zero each and every time he steps between the ropes!
I want to see you scared. I want to see you panic, I want to see you squirm, Scott. Because that...that is when I get the challenge I deserve. When your true self comes out, when you’re fighting me not out of greed, not out of ego, when you are fighting me to truly defend yourself because you are afraid you might not get to see tomorrow if you don’t!
That is the only way that you give me any kind of challenge. Right now Scott, you are nothing to me. You are a punchline to a joke that people lost interest in telling long ago. If I have to beat a challenge out of you, then so be it.
Because Scott, I know there is an animal in you. I know that if I push you, that if I hurt you bad enough, that I can coax out that little bit of effort in you, that true self, that primal self that exists only in those moments of fear.
But Scott, you should never forget one thing.
I have that animal too.
I have that primal self, and I feel it each and every match, each and every time I close my eyes and picture anyone else with this championship. I do not hold back, I do not take it easy, I dig deep within myself and I push past my limits each and every time! The fire in me burns just as bright as that sun, but only so long as I stoke it with worthy challenges, so long as I keep forging a path of conquest, that flame will never be extinguished!
So Scott, if the only way that I am going to get a challenge out of you is to hurt you so badly, to put you in such anguish that the only possible way out is to reach down deep inside yourself and fight me as if your life depended on it? Then that is what I will do.
The Television champion bangs his hands against the railing, causing the contraption to sway dangerously. The champion does not flinch, but he steadies himself, breathing more slowly and slowly relaxing, closing his eyes. After a moment, he resumes, his voice as cold as ice.
Teo Blaze: I want to see what you really have inside you Scott. I want you to show me what you have shown noone else.
But I also know that whatever is in there..?
It won’t be enough.
With that, the Television champion turns and pushes a small button on the control panel, and the platform begins rising back to the roof. As he leaves the camera, the last image is of a brightly burning sun reflecting off of the mirrored surface of the skyscraper.
The hotel room was small, the way he had always preferred if he was being honest with himself, a single bed and the typical furnishing. A small padded chair with a long slice along the fabric, leaking stuffing as though it were from an open wound. A plywood desk with a telephone straight out of the 1960’s and a table lamp that looked just as likely to throw sparks into the air as actually provide any notable light.
While some would call the accommodations meager, in his heart he knew that he wouldn’t have it any other way. For as many years as he had spent on the road, he had grown accustomed to a certain...style of living. On his salary there was no doubt that he could easily have woken up in a 5-star suite on the top floor of a lavish hotel, with a chilled bottle of champagne on one side and a beautiful girl on the other. Bright, polished brass furnishings and egyptian cotton sheets wrapped around a mattress stuffed with goose down and hundred dollar bills.
But that just wasn’t him.
It wasn’t about his bank account, though he had to admit that he did like seeing the nest egg he’d put aside, but wealth and extravagance had just...never really held the same siren call for him that so many of his compatriots seemed to hear.
As cliche as it may sound to some, the reward had never been his thought when he first stepped through that curtain in 2015. He had never pictured himself as a champion, much less breaking records that had stood unchallenged for years.
What he wanted to do, above all else, was to find a way to give back to the people around him. To thank those fans, those wide-eyed souls who populated the arenas each and every week without hesitation, who would throw a week’s wages into Teo’s pocket just for the chance, the opportunity, some would even say the privilege to be part of history. To say they were there when.
Teo chuckled to himself, thinking happily about the scene, about the wide-eyed child in the third row holding a lump of cotton candy bigger than their torso completely enraptured by the symphony of beautiful violence occurring before his eyes, as larger than life titans battled tooth and nail over prizes so great, so valuable that it was worth risking pain, suffering, even risking lives to hold.
In those wide eyes, heroes were real.
It is a classic story, Teo thought to himself, but it never truly got old.
And as much as he loved that look, that rapturous feeling, he had to admit there was something else.
He loved the challenge.
Each and every week, knowing that there was someone new waiting, someone skilled, vicious, or even dangerous walking down that ramp. The only guarantee each week was that they were a threat.
Teo chuckled to himself at the thought, as much as he loved that feeling of victory, that rush of emotion when the referee held his hand high, as much as he loved the fact that sitting right at the foot of his bed were not one, but two championships… that uncertainty thrilled him. He knew that any week could be one of the most painful, humiliating experiences of his life, that he could be broken, thrown around like a ragdoll, or even left unable to walk.
Any man, on any night, with the right opportunity, could destroy everything Teo had worked for.
And even as he thought of that possibility, he felt his heart begin to beat faster, his breath quickening as a spike of adrenaline shot through him.
The sound of that bell was an addiction.
Each and every instant he stood in that ring, he felt...alive. He felt so many emotions, so many wildly differing feelings that it was borderline indescribable. Joy, pain, exhilaration, fear, desire, anger...all coalescing in an instant, in a do or die moment of true bliss.
It was torture to leave the ring. It was pain to be lying in wait, in anticipation of returning between those ropes, of feeling that feeling once again.
And that...that was why Teo never really cared where he slept. Whether in a four-star hotel surrounded by every luxury in the world, or a Holiday Inn that charged extra if you wanted breakfast, it didn’t matter.
All that existed was in that ring, and everything outside of it was a blur.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
===
Meanwhile, on a windy rooftop...
Meanwhile, on a windy rooftop...
The scene has changed dramatically from the small, well-worn hotel room. The Television Champion now stands in a very peculiar location. Near the top of what appears to be a high building, a set of long steel cables stretches down from the edge of the roof. The camera slowly pans down along the mirrored surface of numerous windows, following the cables before coming to a stop on a small platform, a device normally used for washing windows.
And sure enough, leaning against the safety railing of this contraption is Teo Blaze, wearing his typical outfit, blue jeans and a black T-shirt with a dark red jacket. The midday sun reflects in the lenses of his glasses and the shining gold of the Television Championship over his shoulder sparkles as brightly as ever.
Teo smiles, a toothpick between his teeth, and slowly turns, looking at the camera with a grin as he removes it and carelessly tosses it over the side, where it tumbles down many stories to the empty sidewalk below.
Teo Blaze: How you doing, Scotty? Been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve certainly been working on your look, and I gotta say I’m a fan. You are a damn sight sharper without the leash.
The sarcasm in Teo’s voice is immediately apparent, his tone somewhat relaxed, yet there still is a detectable edge to his words, as though despite his comments, he is focused very much on his opponent for the coming week.
Teo Blaze: Last time we met in the ring you were the weak link in the chain of failures known kindly as the Kennedy Matthews experiment, and quite frankly being the weak link in that particular partnership is something that is almost as impressive as it is depressing. I mean, really, between you and me, were you trying to fail? Anything to make KM look a little better, right? Just go out there and lay down so that we keep her from getting her shoulders dirty...right?
Cause let me tell you Scotty...if that was you putting in your actual 100%? Hoooo boy are we about to have a problem.
See, I am not sure if you’ve signed all of the proper paperwork for this match. Do you even have a will made out? Because if that is Scott Slayer at his best, then you’re going to fucking need one.
Let me spell if out for you, so that even a Stupid, Crying, Overtly Terrible Toddler Seemingly Lazy And Yet Equally Repulsive individual like yourself can understand.
This right here?
Teo taps the Television championship with two fingers with an audible sound.
Teo Blaze: You don’t want this.
You think you want this.
You don’t want this.
Tell me Scott, when you were putting your name on that dotted line last week, when you were signing that precious little signature, did you have any idea, any semblance of what you were putting your name down for?
Do you realize what I do to people, Scott?
Because it’s not pretty. It’s barely something that they can air on television.
I don’t beat people, Scott. I hurt people. When I’m in that ring? I don’t see an opponent, hell, I barely see a human being.
I see an obstacle to overcome. I see a target to be reached. I see a problem to be destroyed.
That is what I do, Scott.
The moment that bell rings, the moment that the referee says “go”...that’s when it starts for you.
That’s when you realize just how big of a mistake you’ve made.
I’ve seen that look many times, Scott.
You know the one.
That wide-eyed expression, that moment of realization after the first time I tattoo my knuckles right across your jaw, when after one shot you realize just what you’re in for. You see Scott, I don’t discriminate. You may be a walking, talking example of failure, a hand-printed instruction manual of what not to do in a wrestling ring, but if you think for a moment, for a second, for a fucking instant that you get a pass because of sympathy...oh child.
The moment you put your name on that dotted line, you threw sympathy right out the window, Scott.
Teo holds out his arms and the camera slowly pans out, the mirrored surface of the skyscraper reflecting the bright sun. The glare is almost blinding as the camera passes over apex of the shine.
Teo Blaze: Tell me Scott, do you feel it? Do you feel the radiant, beautiful, rays of destruction? I’ve often been asked about why I feel so drawn to the sun, to flame, to fire. Let me tell you a little secret right now.
Just like the sun on these windows, just like the fire that burns inside me, just like the bright heat of battle that we face in and out, week after week, I strive to embody one guiding principle, one ever-present truth of this great big universe, and that is that to create, you must first destroy.
There has never been a man made stronger by conquering that which he did not fear! There has never been a legend who won every battle he ever fought, nor fought with the understanding that his opponent had no chance of victory!
We grow stronger only by facing that which we do not understand, that which we cannot predict, in overcoming the challenges that are impossible, Scott!
And that is why this week, I am going to beat you Scott. I don’t mean pinning your shoulders down either, I mean physically punishing you with every ounce of my being, in throwing every single tool in my arsenal at you! I mean pummeling you senseless like my own personal punching bag until you start to wonder if I even will let you walk out of the arena alive!
That is good, Scott.
You should be afraid.
Feel it, embrace it...use it. I don’t want to see the Scott Slayer driven by ego, who lets his own inflated sense of self-worth drag him down week after week of humiliating losses, who manages to somehow drive expectations of him lower than zero each and every time he steps between the ropes!
I want to see you scared. I want to see you panic, I want to see you squirm, Scott. Because that...that is when I get the challenge I deserve. When your true self comes out, when you’re fighting me not out of greed, not out of ego, when you are fighting me to truly defend yourself because you are afraid you might not get to see tomorrow if you don’t!
That is the only way that you give me any kind of challenge. Right now Scott, you are nothing to me. You are a punchline to a joke that people lost interest in telling long ago. If I have to beat a challenge out of you, then so be it.
Because Scott, I know there is an animal in you. I know that if I push you, that if I hurt you bad enough, that I can coax out that little bit of effort in you, that true self, that primal self that exists only in those moments of fear.
But Scott, you should never forget one thing.
I have that animal too.
I have that primal self, and I feel it each and every match, each and every time I close my eyes and picture anyone else with this championship. I do not hold back, I do not take it easy, I dig deep within myself and I push past my limits each and every time! The fire in me burns just as bright as that sun, but only so long as I stoke it with worthy challenges, so long as I keep forging a path of conquest, that flame will never be extinguished!
So Scott, if the only way that I am going to get a challenge out of you is to hurt you so badly, to put you in such anguish that the only possible way out is to reach down deep inside yourself and fight me as if your life depended on it? Then that is what I will do.
The Television champion bangs his hands against the railing, causing the contraption to sway dangerously. The champion does not flinch, but he steadies himself, breathing more slowly and slowly relaxing, closing his eyes. After a moment, he resumes, his voice as cold as ice.
Teo Blaze: I want to see what you really have inside you Scott. I want you to show me what you have shown noone else.
But I also know that whatever is in there..?
It won’t be enough.
With that, the Television champion turns and pushes a small button on the control panel, and the platform begins rising back to the roof. As he leaves the camera, the last image is of a brightly burning sun reflecting off of the mirrored surface of the skyscraper.
