Post by Vincent Augustine on Mar 10, 2019 20:37:47 GMT -5
FEBRUARY 13TH 2005
AGENCY INTERVIEWS
Vincent walked into the interview room wearing his full Class A uniform; his head freshly shaved and face the same. Three men sat at a table a single chair opposite them, Vincent taking post behind the chair standing with legs shoulder length apart and both hands behind his back. All three men took notice and wrote some things down in the books before them before the interviewer to Vincent’s left spoke.
Interviewer 1: Please have a seat.
The man motioned to the chair in front of Vincent. With a nod Vincent stepped forward and slipped down into the chair, his arms at rest and his back straight.
Interviewer 1: Please state your name and credentials.
Vincent: Master Sergeant Vincent Augustine, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Your specialization Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Zero two eleven, SIR!
Interviewer 3: Do you know why you are here Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Because my CO told me to be here, Sir.
Interviewer 1: What would you say if we told you to leave Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Good day, SIR!
Interviewer 2: I would like you to kill the man to my right Master Sergeant!
Vincent: Rank and Credentials, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Excuse me?
Vincent: What is your rank and credentials, SIR?
Interviewer 3: Does it matter Master Sergeant?
Vincent: SIR, it does matter, SIR!
Interviewer 1: Why?
Vincent: I only take orders from my superiors, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Please watch the following video.
Vincent nodded and the lights in the room dimmed, the video began to play on the wall behind the interviewers. In the video we see a cop being held by a man with a gun to his head, and another cop with a gun trained on the pair. There appears to be a very heated back and forth between the Cop with the gun and assailant with the gun, then there are two shots, both by the assailant, and both cops fall to the ground, the assailant running away from the camera. The video stops and the lights come back up.
Interviewer 3: Assessment?
Vincent: He waited too long, SIR!
Interviewer 1: Please elaborate.
Vincent: Rule number one, Sir! Always strike first, never let the opponent have the upper hand, SIR!
Interviewer 2: But the criminal already had the upper hand, did he not?
Vincent: No, SIR! It appeared as though he did, but the officer always had an option to strike first, SIR!
Interviewer 3: If the Officer fired he risked hitting the other Officer.
Vincent: Yes, SIR!
Interviewer 1: How would you have handled it?
Vincent: SIR, shoot the hostage, SIR, then the assailant, SIR!
MARCH 9th 2019
The video of the interview cut off and Vincent leaned back in his chair arms folded across his chest. “It’s hard to believe that I was ever like that.” He said while letting his mind go back to that time in his life.
“That decision, the way you made it in the moment, it’s what made us pick you for the agency. But somewhere along the line you lost that killer instinct, that thing that made you special.” A grey haired man sat next to Vincent, his features that of the first interviewer in the room.
“Sir, a lot has changed. Probably too much time in the civilian world, SIR!” Vincent reverted back to his days in the Marines as he sat there.
“It pains me to see a man with such promise, with such skill, lose the thing that made that skill and promise practical. You need to find that man in the interview.” The grey haired man stood up. “Because until you do you will wallow in the mediocrity that has become your new career.” The grey haired man turned and walked out of the room leaving Vincent alone to his thoughts.
MARCH 8th 2019
A cool breeze ripped through the trees of the park, chilling those with no jackets to their core. The weatherman that morning had said the sun would shine, but clouds dominated the sky, and the win threatened to take what warmth was left away. Vincent ever the observant one had seen the clouds and brought a jacket, the very thing that let him sit on the bench in the park while others cleared out, save the for the Pokemon Go players who now had a free area to catch them all.
Have you ever just thought about your past, really given is some consideration? We all have one, we’ve all done things we are not proud of, and things that we want to tell the world every chance we get. But what if you had a past you were indifferent too, a past that you wished so whole heartedly would actually illicit an emotional response within your soul? For me that is my past, it is the thing I very much want more than anything else in this world.
You probably figured this out by now, I didn’t leave the agency because I wanted too, I left because they told me I had too. Something about becoming a liability, going to get someone killed, and I refused to just take an analytical job crunching the numbers and putting the information together. No, that wasn’t for me. I wanted to be in the field, wanted to prove my worth or not be there at all. So I made the most logical decision that I could at the time, I became a professional wrestler, you know like anyone in my shoes would have done.
Look I’m not going to tell you it’s been all bad, I mean some of it truly has been bad, but I’ve learned a lot, kind of fixed myself if you will. I’m not there yet, but I will be, and that’s when things will get interesting. Everything about this industry has been an eye opening experience, and the learning curve has been quite steep to be honest, but then I wouldn’t have chosen to get into this career this late if I expected it to be easy, I’ve never done anything because I thought it would be easy. For me this career is about the challenge.
This brings me to Jayson Price, the first real challenge of my career. Everything before has just been a moment, a simple point and time with a cause and effect, but with Jayson it’s something else, it’s something more. He’s a man that I want to take down, not just in the ring in a match, but in every way possible. Now don’t get your panties in a twist and tell me that I shouldn’t be letting him know that but if he didn’t already know that then he doesn’t even deserve to step into that ring with me.
I know it is standard protocol to tell the world all the things that are wrong with Jayson, but I’m not going to do that, because breaking down my opponent will only cheapen my win. See in an industry so predicated on what have you done for me, and who have you beaten, it would behoove people to remember that when you lower the level of your talent you lower the level of your win. Now I could be wrong, wouldn’t be the first time, won’t surely be the last.
So let’s really talk about Jayson Price. The man’s done some great things in his career, I mean he has a record well over .500 in the WCF, and he’s won 18 titles in his time with the company. If that doesn’t scream success, then I really don’t know what does. To put it into perspective, I’ve won one title in 14 months; he’s won 18 times more than me. Now I could be like everyone else and say he hasn’t done anything in a while, and he sucks now and he’s living in the past, but that would just cheapen my win, kind of make it not really mean anything. Just ask Michael X about how people perceive you when you run your opponents down every week. There’s a reason he has to shout at the world how great he is, because if they believe the other things he says, then it betrays his claims to greatness, and if they don’t believe him they tune him out because no one wants to listen to a liar.
But we are off the path right now, and talking about things we can leave in the past for the time being. Price opened a can of worms when he didn’t want to listen to me, when he simply felt that my input was nothing more than the ramblings of a mad man. It is hard to fault him though; I’d of though my ramblings were those of a mad man. No he didn’t do anything different than I would have done, but he was wrong, and being wrong deserves punishment, so see me as your punishment Jayson, accept it now, make it easier on yourself, because I won’t stop until I feel you have had enough, and only then will you truly understand the folly of your ways.
Just as Vincent finishes he long winded monologue the old Asian woman sits down next to him. “You smart, where jacket, not like other jack asses at park.”
“What can I say I opened my eyes this morning and looked outside before I came to work?” Vincent quipped back. “You have tea for me today?” He asked.
“You spoiled man, you think because I Asian I just make tea to give to you every time we meet!” She said it with an edge of anger and sarcasm at the same time.
“Yep.” Vincent quipped back, not emotional tone in his voice.
“Well you lucky man, I make tea for cold day, keep you warm.” She produced a metal thermos style cup and handed it to him.
“Camel toe tea?” Vincent asked as he flipped the cover over the sipping section open.
“You mean chamomile asshole and no it Green Tea like always.” The woman shook her head and let out a slight chuckle.
“What brings you here today?” Vincent asked.
“Every week we watch you go out there, we watch you fight, we watch you lose. I figure you crazy and you want to make suicide, so I make sure you ok.” The woman replied.
“That’s thoughtful of you, if I didn’t know better I would say you are getting soft on me, maybe you have a thing for me, some kind of vested interest you don’t want me to know about.” Vincent laughed as he sipped the tea.
“You stupid.” She quipped while slapping him on the shoulder. “Only interest in you I have the money you pay me to keep your mind from being broken.” She didn’t smile or laugh at the second statement, it was all true, Vincent was broken and she was being paid to keep him somewhat put together.
“Fair enough.” Vincent replied as he sipped the coffee and stared out across the park, the trees still waving from the cold breeze.
“You have lot on your mind, let it out.” The woman said. Vincent nodded and let it out.
Week in and week out it’s the same thing. I work hard, put forth the effort, and every week I come up short. I know what my opponent is going to do, they telegraph it every time and yet no matter how much I see, no matter how much the world sees it, it still fucking works. Maybe it’s me, or maybe I’m in my head, but it reminds me of something.
I met a young man in Cuba, a ball player to be exact, baseball not soccer for more clarification. Real talent of the world kind of young man, all the skills all the abilities to be great, but he had a problem, a big problem, he couldn’t get out of his head. You put him on the field during batting practice and he’d hit every ball out of the park, hit some flies and he catch them, have him throw to the plate he could hit a trash can from the gaps, but you put a live pitcher in a game situation and he’d strike out.
There’s a great deal of names for it, the Yips, being stuck in your head, but no one really knows what’s going on until you talk to the person. So I did, on a quiet night in the summer I engineered a meeting, as in I stalked him to know his patterns, I was good at it. There in a small little café I sat down and we talked, he told me he could predict the pitch, he could figure everything out, but when it came time to execute he couldn’t get the job done, been that way all his life.
But this doesn’t explain me does it? I haven’t been this way all my life. There was a time when I did the research, I had the knowledge and I could execute when it mattered. Therein lies the problem now doesn’t it? I can execute all the damn time, just not when it matters. Put me in a match not on television, and boom I get the win, I destroyed the developmental leagues, and as soon as the big time calls, it’s fail after fail after fail. The very thought plagues me, it eats at my soul and haunts me when I sleep. I hear the wrestler’s words, I feel their hate, and still I can’t get past it, can’t climb the wall of mistakes that are before me.
Alas though it is a curse that plagues me along with my need to study, to understand my opponent each week, and throw it all in and what do you have? You have a man who has felt more failure in 14 months then he did his entire life prior. Makes you ask the question why still do this? Well because it’s what I need to do, because when I step into that ring the one thing I want is for everyone to know they are witnessing greatness, I want that feeling that everyone around me has.
Deep down inside I want it to start with Roy, I feel it will, and it will carry on through him to the next, and I will build on it, not because Roy sucks, not because he’s terrible, but because he isn’t any of those things. Roy has skills, and a win over him can help to show the world what I already know, that this was not a foolish decision at the crossroads of my life, no this was the right decision and I can get the job done.
“So Roy is like man who does good things?” The woman asked.
“It’s not that, it’s just, I need to get out of my own damn head, and I need to do it now.” Vincent stood up, handed the cup back to the woman. “No more overthinking things when I get into the ring, it’s time to just get the job done.” Vincent gave her a nod and just walked off.
AGENCY INTERVIEWS
Vincent walked into the interview room wearing his full Class A uniform; his head freshly shaved and face the same. Three men sat at a table a single chair opposite them, Vincent taking post behind the chair standing with legs shoulder length apart and both hands behind his back. All three men took notice and wrote some things down in the books before them before the interviewer to Vincent’s left spoke.
Interviewer 1: Please have a seat.
The man motioned to the chair in front of Vincent. With a nod Vincent stepped forward and slipped down into the chair, his arms at rest and his back straight.
Interviewer 1: Please state your name and credentials.
Vincent: Master Sergeant Vincent Augustine, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Your specialization Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Zero two eleven, SIR!
Interviewer 3: Do you know why you are here Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Because my CO told me to be here, Sir.
Interviewer 1: What would you say if we told you to leave Master Sergeant?
Vincent: Good day, SIR!
Interviewer 2: I would like you to kill the man to my right Master Sergeant!
Vincent: Rank and Credentials, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Excuse me?
Vincent: What is your rank and credentials, SIR?
Interviewer 3: Does it matter Master Sergeant?
Vincent: SIR, it does matter, SIR!
Interviewer 1: Why?
Vincent: I only take orders from my superiors, SIR!
Interviewer 2: Please watch the following video.
Vincent nodded and the lights in the room dimmed, the video began to play on the wall behind the interviewers. In the video we see a cop being held by a man with a gun to his head, and another cop with a gun trained on the pair. There appears to be a very heated back and forth between the Cop with the gun and assailant with the gun, then there are two shots, both by the assailant, and both cops fall to the ground, the assailant running away from the camera. The video stops and the lights come back up.
Interviewer 3: Assessment?
Vincent: He waited too long, SIR!
Interviewer 1: Please elaborate.
Vincent: Rule number one, Sir! Always strike first, never let the opponent have the upper hand, SIR!
Interviewer 2: But the criminal already had the upper hand, did he not?
Vincent: No, SIR! It appeared as though he did, but the officer always had an option to strike first, SIR!
Interviewer 3: If the Officer fired he risked hitting the other Officer.
Vincent: Yes, SIR!
Interviewer 1: How would you have handled it?
Vincent: SIR, shoot the hostage, SIR, then the assailant, SIR!
MARCH 9th 2019
The video of the interview cut off and Vincent leaned back in his chair arms folded across his chest. “It’s hard to believe that I was ever like that.” He said while letting his mind go back to that time in his life.
“That decision, the way you made it in the moment, it’s what made us pick you for the agency. But somewhere along the line you lost that killer instinct, that thing that made you special.” A grey haired man sat next to Vincent, his features that of the first interviewer in the room.
“Sir, a lot has changed. Probably too much time in the civilian world, SIR!” Vincent reverted back to his days in the Marines as he sat there.
“It pains me to see a man with such promise, with such skill, lose the thing that made that skill and promise practical. You need to find that man in the interview.” The grey haired man stood up. “Because until you do you will wallow in the mediocrity that has become your new career.” The grey haired man turned and walked out of the room leaving Vincent alone to his thoughts.
MARCH 8th 2019
A cool breeze ripped through the trees of the park, chilling those with no jackets to their core. The weatherman that morning had said the sun would shine, but clouds dominated the sky, and the win threatened to take what warmth was left away. Vincent ever the observant one had seen the clouds and brought a jacket, the very thing that let him sit on the bench in the park while others cleared out, save the for the Pokemon Go players who now had a free area to catch them all.
Have you ever just thought about your past, really given is some consideration? We all have one, we’ve all done things we are not proud of, and things that we want to tell the world every chance we get. But what if you had a past you were indifferent too, a past that you wished so whole heartedly would actually illicit an emotional response within your soul? For me that is my past, it is the thing I very much want more than anything else in this world.
You probably figured this out by now, I didn’t leave the agency because I wanted too, I left because they told me I had too. Something about becoming a liability, going to get someone killed, and I refused to just take an analytical job crunching the numbers and putting the information together. No, that wasn’t for me. I wanted to be in the field, wanted to prove my worth or not be there at all. So I made the most logical decision that I could at the time, I became a professional wrestler, you know like anyone in my shoes would have done.
Look I’m not going to tell you it’s been all bad, I mean some of it truly has been bad, but I’ve learned a lot, kind of fixed myself if you will. I’m not there yet, but I will be, and that’s when things will get interesting. Everything about this industry has been an eye opening experience, and the learning curve has been quite steep to be honest, but then I wouldn’t have chosen to get into this career this late if I expected it to be easy, I’ve never done anything because I thought it would be easy. For me this career is about the challenge.
This brings me to Jayson Price, the first real challenge of my career. Everything before has just been a moment, a simple point and time with a cause and effect, but with Jayson it’s something else, it’s something more. He’s a man that I want to take down, not just in the ring in a match, but in every way possible. Now don’t get your panties in a twist and tell me that I shouldn’t be letting him know that but if he didn’t already know that then he doesn’t even deserve to step into that ring with me.
I know it is standard protocol to tell the world all the things that are wrong with Jayson, but I’m not going to do that, because breaking down my opponent will only cheapen my win. See in an industry so predicated on what have you done for me, and who have you beaten, it would behoove people to remember that when you lower the level of your talent you lower the level of your win. Now I could be wrong, wouldn’t be the first time, won’t surely be the last.
So let’s really talk about Jayson Price. The man’s done some great things in his career, I mean he has a record well over .500 in the WCF, and he’s won 18 titles in his time with the company. If that doesn’t scream success, then I really don’t know what does. To put it into perspective, I’ve won one title in 14 months; he’s won 18 times more than me. Now I could be like everyone else and say he hasn’t done anything in a while, and he sucks now and he’s living in the past, but that would just cheapen my win, kind of make it not really mean anything. Just ask Michael X about how people perceive you when you run your opponents down every week. There’s a reason he has to shout at the world how great he is, because if they believe the other things he says, then it betrays his claims to greatness, and if they don’t believe him they tune him out because no one wants to listen to a liar.
But we are off the path right now, and talking about things we can leave in the past for the time being. Price opened a can of worms when he didn’t want to listen to me, when he simply felt that my input was nothing more than the ramblings of a mad man. It is hard to fault him though; I’d of though my ramblings were those of a mad man. No he didn’t do anything different than I would have done, but he was wrong, and being wrong deserves punishment, so see me as your punishment Jayson, accept it now, make it easier on yourself, because I won’t stop until I feel you have had enough, and only then will you truly understand the folly of your ways.
Just as Vincent finishes he long winded monologue the old Asian woman sits down next to him. “You smart, where jacket, not like other jack asses at park.”
“What can I say I opened my eyes this morning and looked outside before I came to work?” Vincent quipped back. “You have tea for me today?” He asked.
“You spoiled man, you think because I Asian I just make tea to give to you every time we meet!” She said it with an edge of anger and sarcasm at the same time.
“Yep.” Vincent quipped back, not emotional tone in his voice.
“Well you lucky man, I make tea for cold day, keep you warm.” She produced a metal thermos style cup and handed it to him.
“Camel toe tea?” Vincent asked as he flipped the cover over the sipping section open.
“You mean chamomile asshole and no it Green Tea like always.” The woman shook her head and let out a slight chuckle.
“What brings you here today?” Vincent asked.
“Every week we watch you go out there, we watch you fight, we watch you lose. I figure you crazy and you want to make suicide, so I make sure you ok.” The woman replied.
“That’s thoughtful of you, if I didn’t know better I would say you are getting soft on me, maybe you have a thing for me, some kind of vested interest you don’t want me to know about.” Vincent laughed as he sipped the tea.
“You stupid.” She quipped while slapping him on the shoulder. “Only interest in you I have the money you pay me to keep your mind from being broken.” She didn’t smile or laugh at the second statement, it was all true, Vincent was broken and she was being paid to keep him somewhat put together.
“Fair enough.” Vincent replied as he sipped the coffee and stared out across the park, the trees still waving from the cold breeze.
“You have lot on your mind, let it out.” The woman said. Vincent nodded and let it out.
Week in and week out it’s the same thing. I work hard, put forth the effort, and every week I come up short. I know what my opponent is going to do, they telegraph it every time and yet no matter how much I see, no matter how much the world sees it, it still fucking works. Maybe it’s me, or maybe I’m in my head, but it reminds me of something.
I met a young man in Cuba, a ball player to be exact, baseball not soccer for more clarification. Real talent of the world kind of young man, all the skills all the abilities to be great, but he had a problem, a big problem, he couldn’t get out of his head. You put him on the field during batting practice and he’d hit every ball out of the park, hit some flies and he catch them, have him throw to the plate he could hit a trash can from the gaps, but you put a live pitcher in a game situation and he’d strike out.
There’s a great deal of names for it, the Yips, being stuck in your head, but no one really knows what’s going on until you talk to the person. So I did, on a quiet night in the summer I engineered a meeting, as in I stalked him to know his patterns, I was good at it. There in a small little café I sat down and we talked, he told me he could predict the pitch, he could figure everything out, but when it came time to execute he couldn’t get the job done, been that way all his life.
But this doesn’t explain me does it? I haven’t been this way all my life. There was a time when I did the research, I had the knowledge and I could execute when it mattered. Therein lies the problem now doesn’t it? I can execute all the damn time, just not when it matters. Put me in a match not on television, and boom I get the win, I destroyed the developmental leagues, and as soon as the big time calls, it’s fail after fail after fail. The very thought plagues me, it eats at my soul and haunts me when I sleep. I hear the wrestler’s words, I feel their hate, and still I can’t get past it, can’t climb the wall of mistakes that are before me.
Alas though it is a curse that plagues me along with my need to study, to understand my opponent each week, and throw it all in and what do you have? You have a man who has felt more failure in 14 months then he did his entire life prior. Makes you ask the question why still do this? Well because it’s what I need to do, because when I step into that ring the one thing I want is for everyone to know they are witnessing greatness, I want that feeling that everyone around me has.
Deep down inside I want it to start with Roy, I feel it will, and it will carry on through him to the next, and I will build on it, not because Roy sucks, not because he’s terrible, but because he isn’t any of those things. Roy has skills, and a win over him can help to show the world what I already know, that this was not a foolish decision at the crossroads of my life, no this was the right decision and I can get the job done.
“So Roy is like man who does good things?” The woman asked.
“It’s not that, it’s just, I need to get out of my own damn head, and I need to do it now.” Vincent stood up, handed the cup back to the woman. “No more overthinking things when I get into the ring, it’s time to just get the job done.” Vincent gave her a nod and just walked off.
