|
|
Post by Bryn Shander on Jun 17, 2014 9:33:17 GMT -5
 An Issue Of Respect [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]The two talent agents sat back in their office, surprised by their good fortune. They took a gamble on hiring Bryn Shander, and in truth they were quite desperate, not wanting to go back empty handed with no new talent to give Thy WWE offices. At best they had hoped to make the current Intercontinental Champion Triana come out looking like a million bucks, but instead they had a somewhat legitimate superstar who managed to pull off the unthinkable.
"You know that was a total fluke, right? We got damn lucky".
"Who cares? You really should listen to me more often you know. You can thank me for that fat bonus check we both got".
"Seriously though, we should be more careful. We may not be so lucky next time".
"With great risk comes great reward my friend"
"Either way I'm glad it turned out the way it did, though I suspect this guy is nothing more than a one hit wonder".
"Then why did management decide to offer him a new contract, with a signing bonus?"
"I'd rather not bad talk the management".
"Figures"
"And a pay per view match on top of it? They are putting way too much faith in this guy"
"It's not like they are putting him straight into the main event. Even if he is a one hit wonder as you say, there is always room for solid workers, a body to put on a decent match"
"How far do you think he will go? You seem to be really high on this guy"
"Upper mid card at best. He's thirty four years old, and isn't getting any younger. Besides, most of the wrestlers have been doing this their whole life. I'm not so sure he has the passion for the business, the drive that separates ordinary wrestlers from champions and legends"
"I suppose it's possibly with the right training, maybe get him a mentor that can guide his career a bit so we can get the most out of him before his age catches up with him in a few years. He got lucky against Triana though"
"I'll have to concede on that point. Triana was unprepared for him and was expecting an easy win as a warm up going into Anarchy. The way we went about it probably did her no favors, but hey we couldn't have known he would win or even keep pace."
"Yep. It should be interesting to see how far he goes. He's kind of a dick... but I like him."
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Bryn Shander: I could care less, really...I don't give a damn!
Bryn was having a heated argument with his manager that Thy WWE had stuck him with. He had been an experienced wrestler, though was more recognized for his behind the scenes work in training and managing young wrestlers, than for his work in the squared circle. He was just a few inches shorter than Bryn, with a thin, wiry frame. He kept his grey hair shoulder length, with no facial hair, his wrinkled face and scarred forehead uncovered. He was extremely flustered, his face red from the whole ordeal. Why was he so stubborn? Why did they have to pair him up with THIS asshole?
Manager: Well you should care! It's a big part of your job, Bryn.
"I was under the impression that my job was to beat the hell out of people in the ring while bloodthirsty maniacs, excuse me...paying customers, scream and cheer on whoever their favorite happens to be that week."
"That is a large portion of it, yes. Look, my job is to make sure you do your job well, and garner as much success as possible. The more you get your name out there, the more available and visible you are, the more people recognize you. The more people recognize you, the more they will be willing to pay to see you beat the tar out of people, or be willing to pay to see that smug, arrogant smirk get wiped off your face as your opponent cleans your clock."
"I'm not concerned with whether people like me or not. I'm here to get in there, take care of business, then go out to the bar and maybe take home a lady or two. I'd rather my fists do the talking man, and I ain't gonna pander to nobody. Look, I get it. I want to be recognized for being good at what I do..."
"You're really not that good. Not yet."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyways, I want to be recognized and someday be remembered for my accomplishments. I really do want to make it in this business, make something of myself, I ain't gettin' any younger. I just don't want no camera or microphone in my face while someone asks me some dumbass questions that really have no bearing on anything. Correct me if I'm wrong, but we settle differences and determine winners by actions, not words. Am I right?"
"Yes Bryn, you are right. Look, I don't care if you like it or not. It's part of the job, so...just do your damn job alright? And drop the damn attitude. You aren't as hot as you think you are, and you got lucky against Triana. She had an unknown opponent, and you were hired on simply as fodder. Some nobody for her to smack her around the ring, let her fans cheer for her and increase her popularity so she could sell more tickets, especially with Anarchy around the corner. You somehow pulled a miracle out of your ass and won, and now you are expected to ride the hype machine that is now following you. You made a big splash, the likes of which are rare for a newcomer. You need to take advantage of this, and think of it as a small launching pad that put you a few steps ahead of the curve. Really you should be grateful."
"Grateful for what? The company should be grateful for me and their fortunate hire."
"Grateful for this you jerk."
The manager tossed an envelope on the table, and then proceeded to reach into his desk and pull out a packet of papers stapled together, and slide it across the desk. Bryn looks at the items on the desk, then back up at his manager curiously. The manager motions for him to open up the envelope. Bryn does as prompted and pulls out a check from Thy WWE addressed to him personally for $50,000. Bryn's usually unshakeable demeanor starts to give way a bit, his hands slightly trembling. He had never held this much money, or a check written for an amount this high before in his life. He opens his mouth to say something, but struggles to find the words to say. 
"You're welcome. They wanted to give you half of that, but I...doing my job, like you should be willing and more than happy to do....managed to convince them you're worth the money, even though I really don't think you are at least at this point in time. I'm putting my good reputation and standing within this company on the line for you. I went to bat for you Bryn, because as much of an arrogant little shit you are, I think if you listen to me I could help you accomplish a fair amount here. Also, to be completely honest and frank with you...you're my ticket to retirement if this little venture of ours pans out. Even if you remain stuck in the mid card, maybe even upper mid card, we are talking about some serious cash here. I have a contract here on the table, worth way more than your little one match contract you just completed, that will net you over a quarter of a million dollars for six months of work. Of course I'll have you read through it, and you will find that I get a fair portion of your earnings...."
Bryn had lost him at this point, the man's voice simply background noise to the chaotic storm of thoughts and emotions running through his mind at that point. This was more money than he had ever fathomed of making. His wife and his daughter could be provided for, and he could make up for all those years spent in prison while they struggled to get by. This could solve everything, and he could be with them again, and be made whole... His father had always told him to thoroughly read and examine anything that required his signature, and Bryn had kept that principle for his entire life. However he was caught up in the flow of emotions, the tide rushing over him completely. Uncharacteristically, he set the check down and reached for a pen. His trembling hands knocked over the pen holder, and shakily picked up one of the fallen pens. He flipped through the contract, finding the signature lines. He focused hard, and steadied himself, firmly signing and selling himself to Thy WWE for six months. He looked up at his manager, aberrant moisture rimming his eyes, the man's voice finally coming into focus.
"Bryn....Bryn! Yoo hoo, are you in there? Earth to Bryn..."
Bryn managed a half grin, and managed to pull his voice out of his throat, giving only two words.
"Thank you"
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]Bryn had gotten back in contact with his former comrade, his brother in arms, his best friend, Marcus. Marcus had immediately answered the phone call from Bryn, figuring he would eventually come around as always. They had been through hell and back together, and shared an iron clad bond of friendship and brotherhood that could not be broken. They knew the other would always have their back, no matter what. They could trust and rely on each other, even with their own lives, which they did many times beyond count. Bryn apologized for the way he had been treating him, and showed his gratitude for helping him when he was released from the penitentiary. Marcus had even hooked Bryn up with a job, a difficult thing in the current economy, and nobody would be willing to take a risk on a man just released stemming from a hate crime manslaughter charge. /////RP reference[/font][/b]///// They had worked it out and talked things through together, kicking back with a few beers while sitting in the bed of his truck. They were back in Fort Worth, Texas, Bryn's hometown. They enjoyed the quiet evening at the edge of the lake, looking across at the bright lights of the city. Normally they would have rounded up the boys for a night like this, started up a large bonfire and just have a good time out in the sticks. Bryn was not ready for that sort of social interaction just yet, his mental wounds still trying to heal. He just needed time with who was pretty much his brother. Bryn let out a sigh, and broke the silence.
"So, how did it go?"
Marcus: How did what go?
"Come on, Marcus, you know what I'm talking about.
"Yeah I suppose I've been avoiding the topic long enough. I was gonna tell you eventually, you know"
"I know man, I know. I also know that this is what you do when you have bad news. Shoot it to me straight bro"
"So you aren't interested in the abridged version at all? It's much better...or well...let me put it this way. You can either have a pile of crap that's been sprayed with Febreze, or a pile of crap that's been baking in the sun. A big smell of shit, or a big smell of shit mixed with ocean breeze."
"You really didn't have to explain it. Just tell me man. You know how important this is to me."
It was Marcus' turn to let out a long sigh, and he looked down, staring at the grass for a minute, taking the occasional swig of his beer. He finished the last of it and crumpled his can, tossing it to the side and grabbing another. Bryn remained silent. He needed to hear it for himself, but respectfully gave Marcus the time to recall the events and muster up the stomach to break the news to his friend. He hated having to do this and it was always hard. Bryn's family pretty much adopted him into it, and included him in nearly everything they did. Bryn briefly scowled, feeling the frustration that Marcus was closer at the moment to the family than Bryn was.
"Alright man. So she still blames you for everything, and does not want to see you at all, wants nothing to do with you. She wants you nowhere near your daughter Alesha. When she stopped coming to visit you in the pen, and you wrote those letters to Leah and Alesha...she didn't even open them. They are sitting in a box somewhere, collecting dust. But hey, at least she didn't burn them, right?"
"That's not really much of a consolation. Did she take the money though?"
"Nah man, she wanted nothing to do with it. She wants absolutely nothing from you. She would rather struggle and scrape by than accept anything you have to give."
"Damn her pride. It's not just for her, I'm trying to make sure my little girl is taken care of. How could she be so stupid? She is letting her hate take priority over the welfare of our child."
"I know, I agree with you but I could not convince her. I've been...helping out where I can. It really hasn't been easy and I'm behind on my mortgage, I had to refinance my house twice, but you know all three of you are my family too. It's not much, but I have been, and will continue to take care of them for you"
"Again man I really appreciate everything you've done in my absence. I don't know what I'd do without you bro. I owe you more than I could ever repay"
"You don't owe me shit man, this is what we do."
"Here, I just landed a well paying job and received a signing bonus. I want you to have this so you can catch up on your finances..."
"I can't take your money Bryn, it's fine, really."
"Just take it, find a way to pretend it's from you and give to my wife. That's an order, Sergeant"
"So it's gonna be like that huh? Alright, sir yes sir Captain...or wait, you got promoted at the end...yes sir Colonel Sanders!
"Colonel Shander, you dick."
......
......
Later, when Marcus had arrived home for the evening, he opened the envelope, and his jaw dropped. Twenty five thousand dollars...what kind of job did Bryn land?
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]So here he was in Los Angeles, California, the city that would be hosting this year's Anarchy event. Bryn's spirits were low following the aftermath of what happened with Marcus and his wife. A whirlwind of emotions raged inside of him. He was depressed that he could not, and was prevented from providing for his family. A few beers helped ease the feelings away as he tried to bury his emotions. The depressed and alcohol mixed together and chemically formed an emotion of anger at the situation. He felt on the verge of losing it, snapping into a violent frenzy, reverting back to the bad side of his personality. His mind was a battleground, as part of him wanted to embrace all of the anger, and the lust for violence, using it as an outlet for the feelings. He sometimes felt that the changes stemming from the extended stay in prison, and the anxiety and panicky feelings associated with memories from the war... were necessary to finally be someone, and do something with his life. All of the mistakes he had made, failure after failure pained him, and made his blood boil. The other part of him knew he had to embrace some of these changes, but still to keep his core personality, his very identity he had carried that made him who he was. It was trying to balance all of these things together, and not let himself lose control of his own thoughts, emotions, and even his actions. The beast inside of him screamed out, lashing against it's chains, wanting to be released. He attempted to use the thoughts of his family, to grasp onto that thin strand of hope that he would somehow be able to be with them again and be a family once more. Current events weakened those chain links holding that beast at bay. One look at the calendar...Sunday...made him bitterly say to himself...
"Happy fucking Father's Day."
His manager eventually found him, scolding him for his drinking habits, especially with Anarchy the next day. Like any good manager should do, he sobered him up and made him sleep it off, feeding him fluids to prevent a nasty, inevitable hangover. He couldn't have his client hindered in any way going into this high profile match. They sat down together and watched tapes of this Prince Xavier T'challa. They studied his strengths, and strategized on how to either avoid them, or limit their effectiveness. They studied his weaknesses, and what other opponents had done effectively against him. Bryn had a slight weight advantage, and a couple inches of height on him. Bryn would definitely be able to overpower Prince Xavier, but what concerned the manager was his experience, Xavier having wrestled all over the world, and his agility, Bryn was agile but Xavier was a freak of nature when it came down to pure athleticism. On top of that and upon watching film, it was noted that his wrestling and grappling was precise and crisp. Bryn was new, and was a fast learner, but could not compete with that. Bryn may have had potentially the best dropkick out of anyone he had ever managed, but that would mean nothing. They would have to make sure that Bryn did not let him dance around the ring. He had to keep it close and tight, using his strength and superior striking to wear down his opponent. It did not look good, but hopefully Prince Xavier's overly inflated ego would cost him the match, and give Bryn the opportunities he needed to finish the talented man off. His manager took the time to set Bryn up for some basic grappling training so he would have more of a chance, but kept it light to avoid injury. He had done all he could for Bryn, who seemed to have checked his attitude for the time being, and seeming extremely focused. He had offered to come down to the ring with Bryn, but he had refused the offer, preferring to do it alone. The manager complied, some things you just had to let your wrestler do, keeping them as much in their comfort zone as possible. He would just be a distraction. The time came unfortunately for Bryn, for the dreaded interview. He was less than excited, but his manager had pushed him into it. One of the downsides of the job, Bryn supposed. Any place of employment had things you simply had to do, like it or not.
Burris Troy: Ladies and gentlemen I am here now with the newcomer Bryn Shander, and I have the privilege of providing his very first interview.
Bryn Shander: Can we get on with this?
"Alright, a man who is straight to business, I like it. So Bryn, you made quite the impact in your first match. In your debut you defeated the accomplished Triana, the current Intercontinental Champion and former Television Champion. Quite a feat, I'd say. What was your mindset going into such an intimidating debut match up?"
Bryn stood tall, his shoulders set back, appearing calm and confident. Though inside he was squirming and felt rather awkward. He hated this with a passion. He didn't know how to talk on camera. He brushed such thoughts away though, and regained his composure. Why should he even care? He would just speak his mind, and if people didn't like it, or thought negatively about it in any way, too bad. He simply did not care at the moment. He pulled out a can of chewing tobacco, and took a dip, putting it in between his lips and gums in front of the rolling camera.
"Well, I came here to drink beer and kick ass. And I'm all out of beer. That was my mindset."
Burris Troy paused for a moment at that, then continued on.
"Strong words from a strong man. So you have very little wrestling experience, but pulled off a surprising victory. Many within the company are calling you a one hit wonder. In only your second match, you face another high profile wrestler in Prince Xavier T'challa, a man who is on quite a roll as of late, and a former champion wrestling all over the world. Do you think you can pull off another upset? How long do you think your luck can continue?"
Burris Troy worked the interview masterfully, reading his interviewee and helping him out by playing on his personality and emotions that he could gather from him. It psychologically spurred Bryn onwards and the words began to flow from his lips with ease.
"You're lucky I'm not easily offended. You know, people can say and think whatever they want. I've heard all of the talk and the rumors and the opinions surrounding me. I really don't care who management decides to put across the ring from me. Whether they are some failed wrestler on the tail end of their career, or an accomplished world champion. It is all the same to me. I step into the ring, and I see an individual who is in serious need of an ass whoopin'. I will gladly fulfill that need for them. The only thing that matters is that at the end of the match, I'm the one standing and walking away of my own accord. I'm a Marine, and I get the job done. I do not quit until the mission has been accomplished. I don't have an ounce of surrender in me."
"Right, but as I said, do you think your luck will continue and you will get the upset?"
"It ain't luck son, and this will just be the start of my success here. How far I go simply depends on how far I WANT to go, and I have my destination mapped out.
"So what are your thoughts on your opponent, Prince Xavier T'challa?"
"Plenty of thoughts on that. I've been watchin' this guy run his mouth anywhere he can. I've watched him demolish opponents such as Roman Reigns and Jamine Creed. I've seen him win tough battles against Demmie Mae and Joey The Bastard, solid, talented wrestlers who have won championships here. There is no doubt he is good at what he does, and will be a challenge for me. I'm not afraid of a challenge, I do not fear a tough battle. I've seen him in recent weeks just pile up win after win, but he is no invulnerable. He has never faced an opponent like me, a real soldier. I am sure right now he is shaking in his boots, after seeing what I did to Triana, and knowing he is next in line. He'll crumble under the pressure like he did at WrestleMania, where he failed to win the ladder match, and a shot at the Intercontinental Title. I've seen his lack of work ethic, when he didn't even show up for work at Raw 127 against Desmond. He rests on his merits, and at times is lazy. I have no respect for a man who doesn't even show up to work, then goes around demanding a match. It's pathetic. "
"This man goes around, expecting people to kneel and bow down to him. He is the kind of person who has had everything handed to them their entire life. He views everybody as lesser, and doesn't treat them like people. He would be perfectly fine to enslave the majority of the population to serve his every whim as he treats them like dogs. Look at how he treats his woman...Candice I believe her name is. I refuse to address him or refer to him as Prince anything, because that won't fly here, this is America and we have no room for his kind. Xavier, if it would benefit him, or his ego demanded it, which would surely happen, would sell his own people into slavery. He would, much like his ancestors did, selling their own people to other countries, and starting slavery in America. He doesn't care about anyone other than himself. This man comes into OUR country, and has no respect. He complains about everything. Let me give you a piece of advice Xavier...go home. Nobody wants you here, and you'd be much happier in your own country where people scurry around to wipe your ass."
"See, I have plenty of thoughts about Xavier, and reasons to dislike him. Though there was something I saw while I was watching film and recordings of recent events here. Back at Raw 122, you came out whining and complaining as usual like a little girl, demanding a match, with your huge bodyguard slave Hakeem at your side. You decided to throw your money around, because you have to constantly remind everyone of your wealth, and offered ten thousand dollars for someone to enter the ring with you. You sat there, bad mouthing my country, showing a complete lack of respect, essentially spitting on this great country and her people. That is one thing that seriously offends me. I would not come to your country and act that way. Back to the point, as you continued to be an ass, a fellow brother in arms, a soldier of the United States army decided to bravely stand up for his country, something I applaud."
/////Show reference/////
"You felt secure and safe trash talking from behind the protective mass of that behemoth of a man Hakeem, showing how much of a coward you are. You did not engage him as a man. You cheap shotted him with the microphone, and brutally beat him, flying into a savage flurry. You further showed disrespect, as you nonchalantly dropped a wad of cash on him as the medics were trying to get him out of there so they could treat him for his injuries. Even your mistreated, brainwashed girl checked on the man you hurt. I have recently made contact with private Hanson, and I assured him I would avenge him and give you the same treatment he received. I want you to remember him as I'm punching your lights out. You have insulted this great country, and I will not stand for it. I guarantee that at the end of the night, as your eyes roll into the back of your head, looking up at the lights from your back, you will see me stand above you, proudly waving the American Flag. You will learn YOUR place Xavier, mark my words."
Bryn salutes the camera, and walks off, ending the interview.
"Strong words from Bryn Shander folks, and this has become more than just an ordinary match. We'll see if Bryn can back up his words and take the victory in this heated confrontation."
Bryn meets up with his manager, who stands looking at him in surprise, hands on his hips
Manager: Well, I didn't think you had it in you. Not too bad Bryn, way better than I thought, keep it up. Stuff like that will really draw interest and create ticket sells and pay per view buys.
Bryn's eyebrows narrow, and speaks in a flat, emotionless tone.
I'm going to destroy Xavier...
|
|
