Post by Jake Phoenix on Apr 19, 2007 22:39:40 GMT -5
<Backstage interviewer Josh Reynolds drew the plum assignment this week for sure - he got to go into the locker room and try to get a word with "The Career Killer" Jake Phoenix after his three-way match with Donovan Astros and Diablo. Reynolds has found Phoenix, his tanktop down, and one leg propped up on a chair. Phoenix grimaces in pain as an EMT works over his possibly-injured knee with two hands, and he is decidedly NOT in a good mood.>
REYNOLDS: Jake Phoenix, tonight you faced both Donovan Astros and Diablo in a three-way match, but Astros was able to get the win after hooking your tights and taking out your kn-
PHOENIX: SHUT THE (BLEEP) UP!
<Phoenix has indeed, shut Reynolds up, for the time being. He shoves away the EMT that was working on him, sending him skittering across the concrete locker room floor.>
PHOENIX: And YOU, get the (BLEEP) away from me!
<Phoenix slowly works his way to his feet, hobbling slightly on one leg but refusing to show if or how much it really hurts. He stares a hole right through Reynolds, who's now wondering what he got himself into.>
PHOENIX: Yeah, Astros got the win. But it's the same as it's always been. He goes in there and gets it done for now, but he doesn't finish the (BLEEP)ing job! Well, Astros, it's going to be sometime, and sometime soon, but I'm gonna do what I've always done for you all these years - I'm gonna finish the (BLEEP)ing job myself!
REYNOLDS: I-I hate to ask, Mr. Phoenix, but what of your sneak attack on Kevin Kodiak before the m-
<With a snort and a chuckle, Phoenix shakes his head.>
PHOENIX: What about it? The punk was in my way and he got what everybody else around here's gonna get before I'm done! I'm the big man around here now, and not he, not Astros, nobody's stopping me! NOBODY!
REYNOLDS: What about Matthew Kurtis next week? He's bigger than you are!
<Bad move. With a quicker move than you'd expect, Phoenix's right hand reaches out, grabs Reynolds by the throat with a jerk, and slams him back against the plaster wall of the locker room. Phoenix gets eye to eye, nose to nose with the frightened interviewer, who's also probably happy that he's wearing dark slacks.>
PHOENIX: Lemme make this real clear to you, and you can tell this to Kurtis - either of them. I don't give a (BLEEP) who they are, I don't give a (BLEEP) how big or how small or how good or how tough they are. They're going down. Every single person in this (BLEEP) promotion is going down. As far as Matt Kurtis goes, you know what I'm gonna do? Real simple - I'm gonna punch him in the face till he goes down, and then I'm gonna keep doing it till he STAYS down! And if his little bitch of a brother decides to mouth off at me one more time? I'm gonna make sure he gets the SAME--
<Phoenix's other hand lashes out only a few inches from Reynolds' head, his fist striking the wall as Reynolds yelps in surprise, a second too late to do anything. The plaster cracks around Phoenix's fist, and Reynolds gurgles a bit, the grip of Phoenix's hand around his throat tightening.>
PHOENIX: ...but worse.
<Finally, Phoenix lets Reynolds go. The interviewer slumps down, clutching at his throat and getting his wind back. Phoenix grabs his bag from the locker room bench, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves Reynolds in a gasping heap.>
REYNOLDS: Jake Phoenix, tonight you faced both Donovan Astros and Diablo in a three-way match, but Astros was able to get the win after hooking your tights and taking out your kn-
PHOENIX: SHUT THE (BLEEP) UP!
<Phoenix has indeed, shut Reynolds up, for the time being. He shoves away the EMT that was working on him, sending him skittering across the concrete locker room floor.>
PHOENIX: And YOU, get the (BLEEP) away from me!
<Phoenix slowly works his way to his feet, hobbling slightly on one leg but refusing to show if or how much it really hurts. He stares a hole right through Reynolds, who's now wondering what he got himself into.>
PHOENIX: Yeah, Astros got the win. But it's the same as it's always been. He goes in there and gets it done for now, but he doesn't finish the (BLEEP)ing job! Well, Astros, it's going to be sometime, and sometime soon, but I'm gonna do what I've always done for you all these years - I'm gonna finish the (BLEEP)ing job myself!
REYNOLDS: I-I hate to ask, Mr. Phoenix, but what of your sneak attack on Kevin Kodiak before the m-
<With a snort and a chuckle, Phoenix shakes his head.>
PHOENIX: What about it? The punk was in my way and he got what everybody else around here's gonna get before I'm done! I'm the big man around here now, and not he, not Astros, nobody's stopping me! NOBODY!
REYNOLDS: What about Matthew Kurtis next week? He's bigger than you are!
<Bad move. With a quicker move than you'd expect, Phoenix's right hand reaches out, grabs Reynolds by the throat with a jerk, and slams him back against the plaster wall of the locker room. Phoenix gets eye to eye, nose to nose with the frightened interviewer, who's also probably happy that he's wearing dark slacks.>
PHOENIX: Lemme make this real clear to you, and you can tell this to Kurtis - either of them. I don't give a (BLEEP) who they are, I don't give a (BLEEP) how big or how small or how good or how tough they are. They're going down. Every single person in this (BLEEP) promotion is going down. As far as Matt Kurtis goes, you know what I'm gonna do? Real simple - I'm gonna punch him in the face till he goes down, and then I'm gonna keep doing it till he STAYS down! And if his little bitch of a brother decides to mouth off at me one more time? I'm gonna make sure he gets the SAME--
<Phoenix's other hand lashes out only a few inches from Reynolds' head, his fist striking the wall as Reynolds yelps in surprise, a second too late to do anything. The plaster cracks around Phoenix's fist, and Reynolds gurgles a bit, the grip of Phoenix's hand around his throat tightening.>
PHOENIX: ...but worse.
<Finally, Phoenix lets Reynolds go. The interviewer slumps down, clutching at his throat and getting his wind back. Phoenix grabs his bag from the locker room bench, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves Reynolds in a gasping heap.>