Post by Teo Blaze on Mar 24, 2019 22:51:54 GMT -5
It was a scene that Teo had been witness to countless nights before, if he was being honest with himself, but that didn’t mean it was one he was happy to return to.
It wasn’t the bright flourescent light reflecting off of the polished white tile floors, or the unnatural feeling of sterile paper against his skin, or even the whispered comments about his condition.
It was that damned smell.
The lifeless, hermetically sealed scent that you can only find within the walls of a medical office, that rubbing-alcohol scent that no permeated every single facet of the whitewashed room that he found himself in once again.
It was all that he could think about as the white-coated man with the thick glasses slowly leaned over with a metal implement and gently brushed aside his matted, dark blonde hair.
Doctor: Let’s see here, Mr. Blaze, no flinching now...that’s quite a gash you’ve got.
Teo Blaze: No kidding? Here I thought my hair was just turning red for the Winter, but that’s why they pay you the big bucks, right?
The doctor shot an eyebrow up, not even a hint of amusement playing across his face.
Doctor: Very droll, Mr. Blaze. I’m glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t been affected by the television camera.
Teo Blaze: Come on doc, if I had a nickel for every single time someone’s cracked me over the head with a piece of equipment heavy enough to kill, I’d be able to retire...if I wanted to that is.
Doctor: You keep up this devil-may-care attitude and you might not have a choice.
The doctor leaned closely towards the still bleeding gash, the product of Jayson Price’s handiwork with a television camera. The irony of the king of all media being laid low with such a weapon was not lost on him.
Teo Blaze: I’m not telling you how to do your job or anything, but the simple fact is I feel fine. I’m telling you, this is not my first rodeo, or first concussion for that matter. It’s a working hazard, this isn’t ballet.
The doctor was unimpressed with Blaze’s assurances, and simply continued scribbling on the clipboard.
Doctor: Be that as it may, I’m looking at that wound and I’m going to say that at the very least you’re going to require stitches. I’ll notify the higher ups that I’m recommending at least one week’s bedrest in order to make sure there isn’t any permanent damage, paid leave of course, and then in one week’s time I’ll administer another examination, where assuming that everything looks healed, you’ll be cleared to return to the rin-
Teo Blaze: No.
The doctor paused and looked at Teo in surprise, clearly not expecting to be interrupted.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, I’m not certain you understand me. In your state you shouldn’t have been able to walk back here on your own power. Now nobody’s denying your physical or mental toughness, but this is just common sense-
Teo Blaze: No time off. End of discussion.
The doctor craned his head slightly to the side, a look of utter befuddlement on his face at the words he was hearing.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, you’re clearly not in a normal state of mind, I assure you that as soon as you get back to the hotel room that-
Teo Blaze: Doctor, this belt has one rule and one rule only.
As Teo speaks, the camera slowly pans over to his side, where the Television title sits, neatly placed on a table, a few droplets of blood visible on the golden surface.
Teo Blaze: One defense per week. No exceptions, no excuses. You can tell them whatever you want about my physical condition, but I’m walking out there at Kingdom Come, and nothing that you do can change that.
The look on the Doctor’s face is one that Teo was half expecting, but nonetheless he would describe as incredulous.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, I-
Without a word, Teo placed both hands on the paper-wrapped Doctor’s bench and shoved himself up to his feet, reaching behind him to grab the Television Titl
All at once the world began to shift slightly. Though he could feel the ground beneath his feet, it was as though his legs had completely liquified. His vision blurred almost instantaneously as he watched the walls spin out of control, he heard a distant, far-away sound, a muted THUD in the distance, as though someone had dropped a heavy object out of a window.
For a moment, all he could see were the bright white lines along the ceiling, the humming flourescent beacons that he had seen so many time before.
And then...darkness.
The scene that greets the viewer is shockingly different than the pristine hospital room. What the viewer now sees before them is a long and sandy shoreline, illuminated beautifully by a bright pink sunrise. White seagulls fly through the air searching for their breakfast as a lone figure walks through the shore, barefoot and unclothed save for a torn and faded pair of blue jeans.
Around both shoulders are a pair of very different and yet very similar championship belts, shining like beacons in the morning sunlight, and upon his face sits the iconic red lenses that have greeted the WCF audience so many times before.
As the Television champion walks along the shoreline, his steps just barely cutting below the water’s surface, seeming to land on the edges between dry land and endless sea.
After a moment’s walk along the shoreline, he tilts his head up towards the camera as his face breaks into the familiar, twisted smile that has crossed his face over the course of countless wicked thoughts.
Teo Blaze: You know, they say that the Television division is akin to a shark tank...
The champion’s eyes turn towards the ocean, seeming to stare off into the distance as he considers his own words, but after a moment’s reflection, he turns back.
Teo Blaze:...And they also say that sharks are at their most dangerous when they smell blood in the water.
Now there is no doubt that there are those who saw last week, moments before I engaged Vincent Augustine for the third and final time, that Jayson Price took it upon himself to deprive the audience the chance to see me defend this championship. With all of the deceit and treachery that one might expect from such a wretched creature, he drove with vicious intent a foreign object right into my cranium.
Now, I give you fair warning not to worry about Jayson Price, for you see his day will come, but at the moment, that is not my true concern.
The simple fact is that each and every man in the locker room, all the fans watching around the world saw it happen, saw me laid low by the most underhanded of means, and each and every one of them had the same thought.
“How in the world can he come back from this?”
Teo’s lips curl into a genuine smile as he lets out an audible chuckle, shaking his head in a way that could almost be described as genuinely happy.
Teo Blaze: To anyone who had such a thought...you haven’t been paying attention.
I am all too aware of the potential consequences if I choose to step into the ring this Sunday, and indeed a lesser man might have jumped upon this opportunity to vacate his championship, to take the week off to recover and be back in that ring again after leaving the responsibility, the duties of the Television Championship to another willing soul.
But I am no lesser man.
If my time truly has come at the hands of wretched treachery, than so be it. But I will be damned sideways if I go down as anything other than fighting.
I decide how this story ends, not Jayson Price, and not anybody else.
Which brings me to my opponent for the week. Now truth be told there is not all that much to say about Mr. Cross. He has been given the chance to sink or swim in our shark tank of a TV division, handed an opportunity to prove himself by doing what so many before him could not.
Ordinarily, this could speak to bravery, to potential, to someone seizing an opportunity. Look at any open challenge in WCF history and you’ll start to realize that any night can make history.
But…
If we’re being honest, I just don’t see it when I look at Chris Cross. I mean, what is there to say about this young man? His name is a pun so awful that it belongs on the back of a cereal box, and the only communication we have heard from him was an arrogant tweet where he named me as his first “victim” and promised to win the Television championship.
Riveting.
So aside from his insistence on third-grade wordplay, what exactly is there to say about this young man who has been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Nothing. Not one thing to say about this...talent seems like a stretch.
And herein lies the dilemma. On paper, one would look at last week on the way I had to be helped to the back, and they would see it as a sign, an indication that my title reign may be in jeopardy, that the right man with the right motivation could use my temporary weakness to his advantage.
Teo slowly reaches up his hand, waving his index finger back and forth as if he were a parent admonishing a presumptuous child.
Teo Blaze: But Chris Cross? He is in no way, shape, or form the right man for this job.
I may be hurt, I may be cracked, I may even be broken!
But I am still Teo Fucking Blaze.
And let me tell you a secret...If you crack a furnace, the flames do not go out.
My fire, my passion? It burns as strong as it ever has! Nobody can destroy what burns within my soul! My desire to win, my yearning to do the impossible no matter what the cost! When Jay Price took that weapon in hand and he landed that dastardly blow, he did nothing! To that desire, that passion! There is not a man alive who can ever take that from me!
Which brings me back again to Chris Cross. I ask you, where is your passion, your desire, your flame?
What do you bring to me that sets you apart, that makes you able to do what so many competitors before you have failed to?
You bring nothing! To me. You have hurled at me a limp, lifeless, passionless declaration! You labelled me a victim without a single thought to what I am capable of! When a shark smells blood in the water, he does not ignorantly boast about what he is capable of, no! The smell drives him into a frenzy, a crazed bloodlust that pushes him, that drives him, that turns a killer into a motherfucking force of nature!
And you? You see me at a lower point than I have been in months, at a point where you have every single conceivable advantage, where the world is telling me to simply walk away for my own good! And you see all of this, and you sit there behind your keyboard and smugly talk about your “first victim” as though you are expecting to be handed anything!
Such blatant ignorance, such idiocy, such apathy for just what I have done and what I am capable of doing, title match or not...I can’t even be upset. I honestly feel a little sorry for you, Cross!
You have been dropped into our shark tank, but you are no shark...you’re a deer caught in the goddamned headlights. You’re staring death in the face, coming at you with no intention of slowing down, and all you can do is simply watch it happen!
Teo’s breath has become labored as he speaks, and he stumbles slightly, his hand gingerly grasping at his head for a moment, but he quickly collects himself. After shaking his head slightly, he stares directly into the camera, his eyes narrowing as a look of pure and utter contempt consumes his expression.
Teo Blaze: I may be cracked, Cross, hell, I might even be broken. But the truth is that I can tell, even damaged, I’m still better than you on your best day. Weakness in this division does not last.
The sharks may smell blood in the water, Cross.
But it’s not my weakness they’re sensing.
It’s yours.
See you Sunday.
Teo turns towards the beach as the camera slowly pans around the shoreline, the last image leaving the viewer with his form silhouetted against the sunrise.
“Mr. Blaze?”
“Mr. Blaze!”
The voice of the doctor seemed distant, as though he were talking from across the room, but after a few moments the blurry form came into view before Teo’s eyes as he slowly opened them.
Doctor: You see! This is why you need to listen! I’m telling you, this much blood loss takes time to recover from!
As Teo’s vision slowly returned to normal, he saw the doctor feverishly reaching for a handful of gauze. The doctor turned and reached out towards him, but Teo reached out his hand and snatched the white substance from the outsretched hand. With labored effort, he placed the compress on the still leaking wound and slowly got to his feet.
Teo Blaze: I’ll take that under advisement doc, just make sure you’re here at Kingdom Come.
The doctor looked at Blaze incredulously.
Doctor: You’re thinking of wrestling this weekend? In your condition?? You’d have to be insane to even think about trying!
Teo turned and with the hand not already pressing the gauze, retrieved the Television Championship from the table, turning towards the door with a grin.
Teo Blaze: I’m not insane doc. I’m Teo Blaze, and hurt or not? I'm still a champion.
With that, Teo turned and pushed his way out of the sickbay door, leaving the Doctor looking on in a combination of shock...and concern.
It wasn’t the bright flourescent light reflecting off of the polished white tile floors, or the unnatural feeling of sterile paper against his skin, or even the whispered comments about his condition.
It was that damned smell.
The lifeless, hermetically sealed scent that you can only find within the walls of a medical office, that rubbing-alcohol scent that no permeated every single facet of the whitewashed room that he found himself in once again.
It was all that he could think about as the white-coated man with the thick glasses slowly leaned over with a metal implement and gently brushed aside his matted, dark blonde hair.
Doctor: Let’s see here, Mr. Blaze, no flinching now...that’s quite a gash you’ve got.
Teo Blaze: No kidding? Here I thought my hair was just turning red for the Winter, but that’s why they pay you the big bucks, right?
The doctor shot an eyebrow up, not even a hint of amusement playing across his face.
Doctor: Very droll, Mr. Blaze. I’m glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t been affected by the television camera.
Teo Blaze: Come on doc, if I had a nickel for every single time someone’s cracked me over the head with a piece of equipment heavy enough to kill, I’d be able to retire...if I wanted to that is.
Doctor: You keep up this devil-may-care attitude and you might not have a choice.
The doctor leaned closely towards the still bleeding gash, the product of Jayson Price’s handiwork with a television camera. The irony of the king of all media being laid low with such a weapon was not lost on him.
Teo Blaze: I’m not telling you how to do your job or anything, but the simple fact is I feel fine. I’m telling you, this is not my first rodeo, or first concussion for that matter. It’s a working hazard, this isn’t ballet.
The doctor was unimpressed with Blaze’s assurances, and simply continued scribbling on the clipboard.
Doctor: Be that as it may, I’m looking at that wound and I’m going to say that at the very least you’re going to require stitches. I’ll notify the higher ups that I’m recommending at least one week’s bedrest in order to make sure there isn’t any permanent damage, paid leave of course, and then in one week’s time I’ll administer another examination, where assuming that everything looks healed, you’ll be cleared to return to the rin-
Teo Blaze: No.
The doctor paused and looked at Teo in surprise, clearly not expecting to be interrupted.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, I’m not certain you understand me. In your state you shouldn’t have been able to walk back here on your own power. Now nobody’s denying your physical or mental toughness, but this is just common sense-
Teo Blaze: No time off. End of discussion.
The doctor craned his head slightly to the side, a look of utter befuddlement on his face at the words he was hearing.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, you’re clearly not in a normal state of mind, I assure you that as soon as you get back to the hotel room that-
Teo Blaze: Doctor, this belt has one rule and one rule only.
As Teo speaks, the camera slowly pans over to his side, where the Television title sits, neatly placed on a table, a few droplets of blood visible on the golden surface.
Teo Blaze: One defense per week. No exceptions, no excuses. You can tell them whatever you want about my physical condition, but I’m walking out there at Kingdom Come, and nothing that you do can change that.
The look on the Doctor’s face is one that Teo was half expecting, but nonetheless he would describe as incredulous.
Doctor: Mr. Blaze, I-
Without a word, Teo placed both hands on the paper-wrapped Doctor’s bench and shoved himself up to his feet, reaching behind him to grab the Television Titl
All at once the world began to shift slightly. Though he could feel the ground beneath his feet, it was as though his legs had completely liquified. His vision blurred almost instantaneously as he watched the walls spin out of control, he heard a distant, far-away sound, a muted THUD in the distance, as though someone had dropped a heavy object out of a window.
For a moment, all he could see were the bright white lines along the ceiling, the humming flourescent beacons that he had seen so many time before.
And then...darkness.
===
The scene that greets the viewer is shockingly different than the pristine hospital room. What the viewer now sees before them is a long and sandy shoreline, illuminated beautifully by a bright pink sunrise. White seagulls fly through the air searching for their breakfast as a lone figure walks through the shore, barefoot and unclothed save for a torn and faded pair of blue jeans.
Around both shoulders are a pair of very different and yet very similar championship belts, shining like beacons in the morning sunlight, and upon his face sits the iconic red lenses that have greeted the WCF audience so many times before.
As the Television champion walks along the shoreline, his steps just barely cutting below the water’s surface, seeming to land on the edges between dry land and endless sea.
After a moment’s walk along the shoreline, he tilts his head up towards the camera as his face breaks into the familiar, twisted smile that has crossed his face over the course of countless wicked thoughts.
Teo Blaze: You know, they say that the Television division is akin to a shark tank...
The champion’s eyes turn towards the ocean, seeming to stare off into the distance as he considers his own words, but after a moment’s reflection, he turns back.
Teo Blaze:...And they also say that sharks are at their most dangerous when they smell blood in the water.
Now there is no doubt that there are those who saw last week, moments before I engaged Vincent Augustine for the third and final time, that Jayson Price took it upon himself to deprive the audience the chance to see me defend this championship. With all of the deceit and treachery that one might expect from such a wretched creature, he drove with vicious intent a foreign object right into my cranium.
Now, I give you fair warning not to worry about Jayson Price, for you see his day will come, but at the moment, that is not my true concern.
The simple fact is that each and every man in the locker room, all the fans watching around the world saw it happen, saw me laid low by the most underhanded of means, and each and every one of them had the same thought.
“How in the world can he come back from this?”
Teo’s lips curl into a genuine smile as he lets out an audible chuckle, shaking his head in a way that could almost be described as genuinely happy.
Teo Blaze: To anyone who had such a thought...you haven’t been paying attention.
I am all too aware of the potential consequences if I choose to step into the ring this Sunday, and indeed a lesser man might have jumped upon this opportunity to vacate his championship, to take the week off to recover and be back in that ring again after leaving the responsibility, the duties of the Television Championship to another willing soul.
But I am no lesser man.
If my time truly has come at the hands of wretched treachery, than so be it. But I will be damned sideways if I go down as anything other than fighting.
I decide how this story ends, not Jayson Price, and not anybody else.
Which brings me to my opponent for the week. Now truth be told there is not all that much to say about Mr. Cross. He has been given the chance to sink or swim in our shark tank of a TV division, handed an opportunity to prove himself by doing what so many before him could not.
Ordinarily, this could speak to bravery, to potential, to someone seizing an opportunity. Look at any open challenge in WCF history and you’ll start to realize that any night can make history.
But…
If we’re being honest, I just don’t see it when I look at Chris Cross. I mean, what is there to say about this young man? His name is a pun so awful that it belongs on the back of a cereal box, and the only communication we have heard from him was an arrogant tweet where he named me as his first “victim” and promised to win the Television championship.
Riveting.
So aside from his insistence on third-grade wordplay, what exactly is there to say about this young man who has been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Nothing. Not one thing to say about this...talent seems like a stretch.
And herein lies the dilemma. On paper, one would look at last week on the way I had to be helped to the back, and they would see it as a sign, an indication that my title reign may be in jeopardy, that the right man with the right motivation could use my temporary weakness to his advantage.
Teo slowly reaches up his hand, waving his index finger back and forth as if he were a parent admonishing a presumptuous child.
Teo Blaze: But Chris Cross? He is in no way, shape, or form the right man for this job.
I may be hurt, I may be cracked, I may even be broken!
But I am still Teo Fucking Blaze.
And let me tell you a secret...If you crack a furnace, the flames do not go out.
My fire, my passion? It burns as strong as it ever has! Nobody can destroy what burns within my soul! My desire to win, my yearning to do the impossible no matter what the cost! When Jay Price took that weapon in hand and he landed that dastardly blow, he did nothing! To that desire, that passion! There is not a man alive who can ever take that from me!
Which brings me back again to Chris Cross. I ask you, where is your passion, your desire, your flame?
What do you bring to me that sets you apart, that makes you able to do what so many competitors before you have failed to?
You bring nothing! To me. You have hurled at me a limp, lifeless, passionless declaration! You labelled me a victim without a single thought to what I am capable of! When a shark smells blood in the water, he does not ignorantly boast about what he is capable of, no! The smell drives him into a frenzy, a crazed bloodlust that pushes him, that drives him, that turns a killer into a motherfucking force of nature!
And you? You see me at a lower point than I have been in months, at a point where you have every single conceivable advantage, where the world is telling me to simply walk away for my own good! And you see all of this, and you sit there behind your keyboard and smugly talk about your “first victim” as though you are expecting to be handed anything!
Such blatant ignorance, such idiocy, such apathy for just what I have done and what I am capable of doing, title match or not...I can’t even be upset. I honestly feel a little sorry for you, Cross!
You have been dropped into our shark tank, but you are no shark...you’re a deer caught in the goddamned headlights. You’re staring death in the face, coming at you with no intention of slowing down, and all you can do is simply watch it happen!
Teo’s breath has become labored as he speaks, and he stumbles slightly, his hand gingerly grasping at his head for a moment, but he quickly collects himself. After shaking his head slightly, he stares directly into the camera, his eyes narrowing as a look of pure and utter contempt consumes his expression.
Teo Blaze: I may be cracked, Cross, hell, I might even be broken. But the truth is that I can tell, even damaged, I’m still better than you on your best day. Weakness in this division does not last.
The sharks may smell blood in the water, Cross.
But it’s not my weakness they’re sensing.
It’s yours.
See you Sunday.
Teo turns towards the beach as the camera slowly pans around the shoreline, the last image leaving the viewer with his form silhouetted against the sunrise.
===
“Mr. Blaze?”
“Mr. Blaze!”
The voice of the doctor seemed distant, as though he were talking from across the room, but after a few moments the blurry form came into view before Teo’s eyes as he slowly opened them.
Doctor: You see! This is why you need to listen! I’m telling you, this much blood loss takes time to recover from!
As Teo’s vision slowly returned to normal, he saw the doctor feverishly reaching for a handful of gauze. The doctor turned and reached out towards him, but Teo reached out his hand and snatched the white substance from the outsretched hand. With labored effort, he placed the compress on the still leaking wound and slowly got to his feet.
Teo Blaze: I’ll take that under advisement doc, just make sure you’re here at Kingdom Come.
The doctor looked at Blaze incredulously.
Doctor: You’re thinking of wrestling this weekend? In your condition?? You’d have to be insane to even think about trying!
Teo turned and with the hand not already pressing the gauze, retrieved the Television Championship from the table, turning towards the door with a grin.
Teo Blaze: I’m not insane doc. I’m Teo Blaze, and hurt or not? I'm still a champion.
With that, Teo turned and pushed his way out of the sickbay door, leaving the Doctor looking on in a combination of shock...and concern.
