Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2011 16:56:34 GMT -5
{{Open scene. Locker room. Delta Center. Salt Lake City. The final hours before Blast. Phillip Baines is sitting on a basic wooden stool in his locker room while his mentor and most trusted confidant Bobby Cairo wraps white tape around his hands. This is a time honored tradition for all men who throw fists for a living, but of course Baines is not a traditional kind of prize fighter. Baines, the rookie, has held the WCF Hardcore Championship since April 4th when he defeated Greenfever in the very first match of his professional wrestling career. That match was a war that tested Phil's resolve. He's been in several more wars since then, including his Flatliner match against Greenfever at XIII.
That was the night that Baines entered his name into the annals of both infamy and immortality by becoming the first man to ever kill an opponent in a WCF-sanctioned match. That result led Phil along the brimstone path to his current title defense against the late Greenfever's tag team partner Oblivion. Reckless Jack is also in the match, but it is Baines and Oblivion who are inescapably attached at the hip. Their focus during promos this week has been directed almost exclusively at each other, despite the official classification of this bout as a triple threat match. If Reckless Jack does show up for tonight's festivities his will be just another body in the ring, as inconsequential as the referee.
Cairo puts the finishing touch on Baines' hand wraps. Baines nods his head in gratitude. Cairo says not a word. He leaves his pupil alone to meditate on the heavy shit that's in front of him and, perhaps more pertinently, the heavy shit that's inside of him. After a few moments of silence Baines begins to speak, his voice tempered somewhere between a whisper and a scream.}}
Phillip Baines: "So much as I appreciate all of the wisdom that Bobby Cairo has divulged to my privileged eyes, ears and brain, I am grateful for some time alone in the hours before this work that I must do. Sometimes a man needs to be alone to think about life, ambition, the verve in a beautiful woman's eyes, the horrors of a soon to be dead man's scream. I am focused on the task that lies ahead of me, the task of defending my WCF Hardcore Championship against two men, two decorated superstars, but I would be lying if I said that my mind does not occasionally drift. The work that we do as hardcore wrestlers would cause most any man to become introspective and search his soul. This work is gruesome work. This work makes my blood run cold. It sends shivers up my spine. Make no mistake, I will continue to move forward with my career. I will continue to progress as a wrestler and as a young man. That doesn't mean that I can ignore the things that I've done to get this far."
{{Phil casts a troubled glance down to the floor, down past those silver moon boots that have become his trademark footgear during his fledgling career.}}
Phil: "Did I compromise my principles, as a peace-loving man, by taking another man's life? This is a difficult question for me to answer. There is no doubt that I was defending myself when I jabbed that bleach-filled syringe through Greenfever's eyeball and into his brain and then depressed the plunger, filling his body with that lethal fluid. There is no doubt that it was kill or be killed that night. Still, I made the decision to accept the terms and conditions of the match. I didn't have to do it. I did it because of my feelings of pride and wrath, two of the seven deadly sins. I am not a religious man, in fact I'm an atheist, but avoiding those seven sins seems like practical advice to me. I fell into a trap that so many mortal men do, and I can't help but regret my actions. I have lived with guilt since that fateful night at XIII and I fear that I will carry this guilt with me for the rest of my years on this earth."
{{Phil takes a deep breath in and then exhales. He runs his hand through his long, coal-black hair while still staring at the floor.}}
Phil: "That guilt is both a burden and a gift. The burden is obvious, as I have just explained it, but the gift, well that's pretty simple in its own right. That guilt serves as a reminder of a decision that I made that had fatal consequences for another man. It symbolizes a lesson learned, a lesson that will not be forgotten until I find myself deep in the throes of Alzheimer's. As I do grow older and wiser, I will use that lesson to make better choices. I don't want to be an infamous man. I don't want to be a hated man. I don't want to be a man who despises himself when he looks in the mirror. I do want to be successful in life. I want to succeed in my chosen profession. I want to have a successful home life. I'm fortunate to have met the woman of my dreams and fallen madly in love with her and, uh--"
{{Baines' demeanor perks up now as a smile creeps across his face.}}
Phil: "I'm especially fortunate that she's fallen in love with me. The fact that Gina has faith in me, faith enough to commit herself to me as I have committed myself to her, well... it gives me faith in myself. It gives me a belief that I'm not such a bad guy. What motivates me? What desires burn deep within the brains of Baines?"
{{Phil chuckles slightly at the simple rhyme. He raises his head before speaking again.}}
Phil: "I'm motivated by a quest for serenity. I desire peace of mind. I dream of marriage, kids, a stable family life, a happy home. It's funny that I work so hard to prepare for each of my matches. I dedicate so much of my time and energy to this part of my life. I spread myself thin every time I step into that ring, into the throes of combat, but when I really think about it, it's plain to see that wrestling is far from my top priority in life. I don't have to think about it very hard either. What I can't understand, in light of that self-realization, is why I spend the majority of my days preparing to do battle with an ever-growing series of deranged psychopaths. After viewing Oblivion's latest promo it's obvious that he has lost touch with the very last vestiges of reality that once occupied his mind. I shudder to think about the possibility that I have a part of Oblivion hidden somewhere deep inside of my psyche, waiting to rear its ugly head. Is that what drives me? A taste for bloodshed? No, I will not allow that to define me as it defines men like Oblivion, Greenfever, and the rest of their kind. I can't be like them. I won't be like them. Any such urges will stay buried so deep inside of me that they will never see the light of day."
{{Phil rises from his stool. He stands tall. He stands resolute in his beliefs. All six-foot five-inches and two-hundred thirty-two pounds of him.}}
Phil: "Defeat would not mean having my shoulders pinned to the mat tonight by Oblivion. Defeat would mean allowing myself to become like Oblivion, to lose the sense of humanity that defines me as a person, as a man, as a competitor. I have trained long and hard for this match. I know that I can defeat Oblivion at his own game, but better still I can defeat Oblivion at my game. And that... that is precisely what I will do."
{{Baines adjusts the shoulder straps of his technicolor wrestling singlet, picks up the gold and leather championship belt that symbolizes his status as the top wrestler in WCF's hardcore division, and walks away. Exit locker room. Fade to black. End scene.}}
That was the night that Baines entered his name into the annals of both infamy and immortality by becoming the first man to ever kill an opponent in a WCF-sanctioned match. That result led Phil along the brimstone path to his current title defense against the late Greenfever's tag team partner Oblivion. Reckless Jack is also in the match, but it is Baines and Oblivion who are inescapably attached at the hip. Their focus during promos this week has been directed almost exclusively at each other, despite the official classification of this bout as a triple threat match. If Reckless Jack does show up for tonight's festivities his will be just another body in the ring, as inconsequential as the referee.
Cairo puts the finishing touch on Baines' hand wraps. Baines nods his head in gratitude. Cairo says not a word. He leaves his pupil alone to meditate on the heavy shit that's in front of him and, perhaps more pertinently, the heavy shit that's inside of him. After a few moments of silence Baines begins to speak, his voice tempered somewhere between a whisper and a scream.}}
Phillip Baines: "So much as I appreciate all of the wisdom that Bobby Cairo has divulged to my privileged eyes, ears and brain, I am grateful for some time alone in the hours before this work that I must do. Sometimes a man needs to be alone to think about life, ambition, the verve in a beautiful woman's eyes, the horrors of a soon to be dead man's scream. I am focused on the task that lies ahead of me, the task of defending my WCF Hardcore Championship against two men, two decorated superstars, but I would be lying if I said that my mind does not occasionally drift. The work that we do as hardcore wrestlers would cause most any man to become introspective and search his soul. This work is gruesome work. This work makes my blood run cold. It sends shivers up my spine. Make no mistake, I will continue to move forward with my career. I will continue to progress as a wrestler and as a young man. That doesn't mean that I can ignore the things that I've done to get this far."
{{Phil casts a troubled glance down to the floor, down past those silver moon boots that have become his trademark footgear during his fledgling career.}}
Phil: "Did I compromise my principles, as a peace-loving man, by taking another man's life? This is a difficult question for me to answer. There is no doubt that I was defending myself when I jabbed that bleach-filled syringe through Greenfever's eyeball and into his brain and then depressed the plunger, filling his body with that lethal fluid. There is no doubt that it was kill or be killed that night. Still, I made the decision to accept the terms and conditions of the match. I didn't have to do it. I did it because of my feelings of pride and wrath, two of the seven deadly sins. I am not a religious man, in fact I'm an atheist, but avoiding those seven sins seems like practical advice to me. I fell into a trap that so many mortal men do, and I can't help but regret my actions. I have lived with guilt since that fateful night at XIII and I fear that I will carry this guilt with me for the rest of my years on this earth."
{{Phil takes a deep breath in and then exhales. He runs his hand through his long, coal-black hair while still staring at the floor.}}
Phil: "That guilt is both a burden and a gift. The burden is obvious, as I have just explained it, but the gift, well that's pretty simple in its own right. That guilt serves as a reminder of a decision that I made that had fatal consequences for another man. It symbolizes a lesson learned, a lesson that will not be forgotten until I find myself deep in the throes of Alzheimer's. As I do grow older and wiser, I will use that lesson to make better choices. I don't want to be an infamous man. I don't want to be a hated man. I don't want to be a man who despises himself when he looks in the mirror. I do want to be successful in life. I want to succeed in my chosen profession. I want to have a successful home life. I'm fortunate to have met the woman of my dreams and fallen madly in love with her and, uh--"
{{Baines' demeanor perks up now as a smile creeps across his face.}}
Phil: "I'm especially fortunate that she's fallen in love with me. The fact that Gina has faith in me, faith enough to commit herself to me as I have committed myself to her, well... it gives me faith in myself. It gives me a belief that I'm not such a bad guy. What motivates me? What desires burn deep within the brains of Baines?"
{{Phil chuckles slightly at the simple rhyme. He raises his head before speaking again.}}
Phil: "I'm motivated by a quest for serenity. I desire peace of mind. I dream of marriage, kids, a stable family life, a happy home. It's funny that I work so hard to prepare for each of my matches. I dedicate so much of my time and energy to this part of my life. I spread myself thin every time I step into that ring, into the throes of combat, but when I really think about it, it's plain to see that wrestling is far from my top priority in life. I don't have to think about it very hard either. What I can't understand, in light of that self-realization, is why I spend the majority of my days preparing to do battle with an ever-growing series of deranged psychopaths. After viewing Oblivion's latest promo it's obvious that he has lost touch with the very last vestiges of reality that once occupied his mind. I shudder to think about the possibility that I have a part of Oblivion hidden somewhere deep inside of my psyche, waiting to rear its ugly head. Is that what drives me? A taste for bloodshed? No, I will not allow that to define me as it defines men like Oblivion, Greenfever, and the rest of their kind. I can't be like them. I won't be like them. Any such urges will stay buried so deep inside of me that they will never see the light of day."
{{Phil rises from his stool. He stands tall. He stands resolute in his beliefs. All six-foot five-inches and two-hundred thirty-two pounds of him.}}
Phil: "Defeat would not mean having my shoulders pinned to the mat tonight by Oblivion. Defeat would mean allowing myself to become like Oblivion, to lose the sense of humanity that defines me as a person, as a man, as a competitor. I have trained long and hard for this match. I know that I can defeat Oblivion at his own game, but better still I can defeat Oblivion at my game. And that... that is precisely what I will do."
{{Baines adjusts the shoulder straps of his technicolor wrestling singlet, picks up the gold and leather championship belt that symbolizes his status as the top wrestler in WCF's hardcore division, and walks away. Exit locker room. Fade to black. End scene.}}
