Post by Static on Jan 6, 2006 20:59:48 GMT -5
(Put yourself in Rex Caliber's position for a moment.
No, not that position. Sickos.
This one: you're an undefeated in NAPW and highly successful everywhere else. Your sports bar could keep you in the green for years to come but you care for the gold more. You're a high-falutin' champagne sipper, a mover and a shaker in the world of professional wrestling. You bathe in your massive fortune fortnightly. A real jet ridin', limousine ridin'... -woo-, son of a gun. You sleep on top of a big pile of money with beautiful women (who could be men). Regardless, life is good.
At least it WAS, before Action! There, you were given some sour advice, which, when added to sweet fortune and a salty mood, on top of a big pile of ego, can cause great disaster. In this case, it was dropping the Television Title a few days earlier than you needed to to... the Crusher. Sigh.
How else does a proper professional wrestling heel deal with gaffes in judgment? Publicly apologize and admit your error? Take rooks like the Crusher more seriously in the future? Certainly not! If you're "the Nexus One" Rex Caliber, you can be found in the locker room after Action!, throwing a temper tantrum!)
REX CALIBER: (turning over a table, looking for "the Mayor" Bill Fleming) I can't believe it!... where is he?! C'mon out, Mayor! I've got a great way to improve your approval rating!... get your ass kicked by Rex Caliber!
(Security guards storm the scene, trying to calm Rex down.)
OFFICER: Rex! I know you're mad, but this is property of the NAIT Athletic Center. If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to call the police. If it'll help you, I can go get this "Mayor" for you.
REX CALIBER: Get the hell out of my locker room!... fine, go get him! I don't care!
(Rex throws a steel chair against the wall as security rushes out. After a minute of measured breathing, he picks up the bent chair, unfolds it, and sits down. This is just in time for Bruce "the Beast" Richards to stick his nose into trouble, apparently in a cocky mood. He pokes his head through the locker room door, giggling.)
THE BEAST: (laughing) Crusher?... hahaha... Crusher... good luck this Monday. Try not to choke again!
(The Beast closes the door just as Rex flings a steel chair fastball right into it, leaving a mark and breaking the chair. Rex turns over another table and is about to punch the concrete wall when...)
STATIC: Huh. He got to you, too.
(Rex wheels around to discover Static, leaning up against a locker room wall. He's presumably been watching the tirade the whole time.)
STATIC: Fleming. About time you realized he's dead weight. He's been costing me matches for ages, and what do you say? He's "insurance." You said he could stick around if he didn't "hit us in the pocketbook."
REX CALIBER: How could I have been so stupid... I think he did mine on purpose. Could he be in league with... the Crusher?! No, that doesn't make any sense... he talked me into that stupid challenge, now look.
STATIC: I don't know about doing it on purpose, Rex. That idiot worships the ground we walk on. Why on earth would you challenge Crusher anyway? He was on a hot streak, you just stepped on the coals.
REX CALIBER: I wanted to be champ going into Monday... Fleming told me it be great and our team could have just as much gold as the Rat Pack... it was stupid to rush in without scouting him...but it was -Crusher-... ughhh.
(Static walks over and sits down on a bench next to Rex, unusually calm. He may have even cracked a smile.)
STATIC: Well, so much for the dream of Double Champions. What now?
REX CALIBER: You're right, man... you've been right all along. We need to take care of Fleming, he'll never get it... we can't let him cost us these tag titles. D-X is going to have Terry Brandon on their side, Fleming gives us no advantage whatsoever... damn it...
STATIC: Well, Fleming's gone now. He ran right to his car from the ring. It was pretty hilarious, actually.
REX CALIBER: Hilarious, huh?! You think me losing is funny?!
STATIC: Whoa, whoa, buddy. Calm down. (Static smiles. He's holding the cards.) I told you, Double Champions was something that I wanted for us. For us. Us... not including Fleming. Shower and get dressed... we'll continue this later. I could go for one of those sirloins from the Nexus One Sports Club, if you don't mind.
REX CALIBER: (still pissed, but calming down) Humph... alright. I can't turn that down.
STATIC: And we'll talk.
REX CALIBER: Alright.
STATIC: Meet you there.
(As they exchange pounds and part ways, Static gives one of those cliche pro wrestling manipulating grins Rex's way. Fade out.)
co-written by Rex Caliber, special thanks to the Beast
No, not that position. Sickos.
This one: you're an undefeated in NAPW and highly successful everywhere else. Your sports bar could keep you in the green for years to come but you care for the gold more. You're a high-falutin' champagne sipper, a mover and a shaker in the world of professional wrestling. You bathe in your massive fortune fortnightly. A real jet ridin', limousine ridin'... -woo-, son of a gun. You sleep on top of a big pile of money with beautiful women (who could be men). Regardless, life is good.
At least it WAS, before Action! There, you were given some sour advice, which, when added to sweet fortune and a salty mood, on top of a big pile of ego, can cause great disaster. In this case, it was dropping the Television Title a few days earlier than you needed to to... the Crusher. Sigh.
How else does a proper professional wrestling heel deal with gaffes in judgment? Publicly apologize and admit your error? Take rooks like the Crusher more seriously in the future? Certainly not! If you're "the Nexus One" Rex Caliber, you can be found in the locker room after Action!, throwing a temper tantrum!)
REX CALIBER: (turning over a table, looking for "the Mayor" Bill Fleming) I can't believe it!... where is he?! C'mon out, Mayor! I've got a great way to improve your approval rating!... get your ass kicked by Rex Caliber!
(Security guards storm the scene, trying to calm Rex down.)
OFFICER: Rex! I know you're mad, but this is property of the NAIT Athletic Center. If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to call the police. If it'll help you, I can go get this "Mayor" for you.
REX CALIBER: Get the hell out of my locker room!... fine, go get him! I don't care!
(Rex throws a steel chair against the wall as security rushes out. After a minute of measured breathing, he picks up the bent chair, unfolds it, and sits down. This is just in time for Bruce "the Beast" Richards to stick his nose into trouble, apparently in a cocky mood. He pokes his head through the locker room door, giggling.)
THE BEAST: (laughing) Crusher?... hahaha... Crusher... good luck this Monday. Try not to choke again!
(The Beast closes the door just as Rex flings a steel chair fastball right into it, leaving a mark and breaking the chair. Rex turns over another table and is about to punch the concrete wall when...)
STATIC: Huh. He got to you, too.
(Rex wheels around to discover Static, leaning up against a locker room wall. He's presumably been watching the tirade the whole time.)
STATIC: Fleming. About time you realized he's dead weight. He's been costing me matches for ages, and what do you say? He's "insurance." You said he could stick around if he didn't "hit us in the pocketbook."
REX CALIBER: How could I have been so stupid... I think he did mine on purpose. Could he be in league with... the Crusher?! No, that doesn't make any sense... he talked me into that stupid challenge, now look.
STATIC: I don't know about doing it on purpose, Rex. That idiot worships the ground we walk on. Why on earth would you challenge Crusher anyway? He was on a hot streak, you just stepped on the coals.
REX CALIBER: I wanted to be champ going into Monday... Fleming told me it be great and our team could have just as much gold as the Rat Pack... it was stupid to rush in without scouting him...but it was -Crusher-... ughhh.
(Static walks over and sits down on a bench next to Rex, unusually calm. He may have even cracked a smile.)
STATIC: Well, so much for the dream of Double Champions. What now?
REX CALIBER: You're right, man... you've been right all along. We need to take care of Fleming, he'll never get it... we can't let him cost us these tag titles. D-X is going to have Terry Brandon on their side, Fleming gives us no advantage whatsoever... damn it...
STATIC: Well, Fleming's gone now. He ran right to his car from the ring. It was pretty hilarious, actually.
REX CALIBER: Hilarious, huh?! You think me losing is funny?!
STATIC: Whoa, whoa, buddy. Calm down. (Static smiles. He's holding the cards.) I told you, Double Champions was something that I wanted for us. For us. Us... not including Fleming. Shower and get dressed... we'll continue this later. I could go for one of those sirloins from the Nexus One Sports Club, if you don't mind.
REX CALIBER: (still pissed, but calming down) Humph... alright. I can't turn that down.
STATIC: And we'll talk.
REX CALIBER: Alright.
STATIC: Meet you there.
(As they exchange pounds and part ways, Static gives one of those cliche pro wrestling manipulating grins Rex's way. Fade out.)
co-written by Rex Caliber, special thanks to the Beast