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Post by Osh Vaughan on Jun 14, 2021 11:57:16 GMT
Brandon Hendrix vs Scotty Adams vs
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Post by Scotty 'Silver Bullet' Adams on Jun 14, 2021 18:08:01 GMT
Scott- People wish to believe that I am their means of taking the next step up the ladder. That I am the one who they see fit to pursue, as a means of stepping up the IIW ladder. Of attempting to cement their name amomgst the upper echelon. Is that how they think it's gonna fly? Is that the path they truly wish to take? The hill they wanna die on, as people these days would refer to it as? Because the further they wander down that passage. The more they engage within the war of their own creation, the soon they will realise that this route is more perilous than they had initially projected it to be. That their supposed step on the ladder, is one that is coated with oil and their end outcome will be sprialling down to the ground. Looking up at what they thought they held.
I pause, lying within my bed at home. Well, the apartment that has been my home ever since landing in England. My head still pounding and my body still aching from the past Mayhem, when a man known simply as "The Country Doctor", Jack Hill, decided that I would be his next target; he would fire the first shot following me proving my point that Jesse was nothing more than a Sheep. Worse, a sheep that yearned to be a wolf. On top of that, some Brandon Hendrix kid holds a similar belief to Jack. That I am the next step they must take on their journey within the IIW. If that's what they honestly desire, and aren't simply doing this because they hold a fallacious belief that I am some sort of woundes animal - or, rather - easy prey, I am more than happy to oblige.
Scott- For to them, this is their "coming out" party. Their breakout moment, yet they cannot comprehend just what awaits them. The ramifacations for their decisions. The crosses and scars that they will have to bare, should either one of them fail to deliver upon their promises. Should either one of them slip and fall off the ladder they have set up for themselves. Which I'm sure neither of them wish to do.
I gently smile, despite the dull; throbbing pain radiating through my body.
Scott- And why would you? Why would you go out of your way to seek out your target, only for the whole plan to unravel before your eyes when the time comes to actually execute upon it? Why would you desire a position where you have played your cards, to backfire and leave you back at square one? Unless you both are some sort of masochists...
I stop myself, before gently laughing.
Scott- ...Which is perfectly fine by me. I don't mind obliging and indulging you, if that is what you wish. Otherwise, all you are doing is setting yourself atop a pedestal that is not yours to hold. At least, not at this very moment in time.
I slide my back up the wall behind me, wincing gently as I do so. As much as Bianca and the medics attempted to coax me into going to the hospital, I have suffered worse assaults in my career and stood tall. Granted, I was younger back then - yet to me, my age is irrelevant to this. I ain't about to let Jack think his little act of cowardice had any impact on me, aside from superficial wounds.
Is it arrogance? Absolutely it is, but we all have egos. We all have our own arrogant traits, whether or not we wish to admit them. It's what makes us --- well, us. Plus, you kind of need an aura - or air - of cockyness slash arrogance to you, if you are to compete within this realm. Or any realm, for that matter. If you don't have such an ego, or rather, if you claim not to, then you're lying. Either that or you are yet to learn the basic tenets of competition.
Scott- But hey, ambition is something to be admired. Respected, even. It's something that we all should have. A trait that shows passion and hunger. A drive to prove that you belong. That you are more than just another fish in this vast ocean. If I were in your shoes, Brandon. Or yours, Jack - I would have done the same thing. Gone after a person who stands where I wish to stand. A person who holds the level that I wish to hold at some point - even if it will merely come crashing back down and swallow you within its cold, unforgiving embrace when it is all said and done. For at least you singalled your intent. At least you "shot your shot" and stepped up to the plate.
My eyes begin to glaze over, as I feel a gentle twinge in my back, causing me to grit my teeth. Disguise just how much pain my body is in presently. It is then, that the door slowly opens and Bianca enters the room. A small plastic bag in her left hand. Within it, is some panadol.
Bianca- You want me to leave them in the cabinet?
I glance at her, nodding.
Scott- Yeah. Thanks for getting them by the way, babe.
She softly smiles before noticing the fact my face is still somewhat pale. Though she knows from previous discourse that I'm reluctant to take medication unless I truly see the need to. Now is not one of those times. Yet she calmly walks to my side of the bed regardless, placing her hand atop my forehead. Attempting to ensure I don't have a tempterature. Continuing to grit my teeth, her touch caused a soft pain to shoot through me, yet I let out a few breaths. Though not enough to assuage the concern across her face.
Bianca- You sure you're okay?
I nod. Accepting this, she steps back, removing her hand. Turning her body back towards the door, she sighs. Knowing just how stubborn I can be at times. Even if it is to my own detriment.
Bianca- Alright. Did you want me to ask Larni if she can reschedule the zoom?
I attempt to laugh, but stop myself.
Scott- Nah. I'll be fine.
She gently rolls her eyes, though understands that even through a headache, I am still a business oriented person. And this zoom is just another part of my duties as Adams Enterprise head.
Bianca- Okay. I'll be in the lounge if you need anything.
Scott- Okay.
She walks back into the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. Thoughts that have now slightly changed from being solely about Jack and Brandon, to including the Zoom. Even if that isn't for another 5 hours. ---
Three days later, and I'm sitting in a black movie director's chair, within the confines of an empty BBC studio. Keen eyed people may remember this particular set as one where I discussed my Worlds Collide match with Jake E. Dangerously. Only this time, it is set up much like a movie set would be. Complete with stagehands and "actors" alike running around. Attempting to get to where they need to be. There's even cameramen behind each of the four cameras, including the one set up about seven metres in front of where I am presently sitting. I softly sigh, before clearing my throat. Preparing to engaging in my first piece of direct discourse with Brandon Hendrix.
Scott- G'day Brandon. I figured I would begin our little discussion in a settling you are very familiar with. Make you feel right at home, y'know? I hope you enjoy seeing the rush. The frantic nature that is a film set whilst filming is in progress. Nostalgic, isn't it?
I laugh, watching as a crew member walks into the studio, gently pushing a tolley towards the catering tables on the left hand side of the studio. The tires of the trolley squeaking as they roll across the concrete.
Scott- This remind you of your films? Of the times you felt as if you had made it? The times when the lights were focused on you and you had to play the role you were assigned, lest you be exposed as being out of your depth? The fight to validate your positioning within the hierarchy of Hollywood? If so, then you may have also realised that it is a similar refrain to our upcoming encounter at Mayhem - and the main reason why I specifically chose this as the setting slash backdrop for our discussion.
I pause, remembering a small thing I had forgotten.
Scott- Oh shit, I forgot about the green screen.
I motion over to the audio table set up next to the camera, as one of the audio technicians changes my backdrop to that of a park setting. Complete with trees and birds flying overhead. Turning my head over my right shoulder, I smile before returning my focus to the camera.
Scott- There we go. Much better. Now, back to what we were talking about. You see Brandon. I get why you would choose wrestling as your occupation. As your means of trying to enhance your name and your brand. It's not too dissimilar to Hollywood, is it? You have people who use others, or portray them in roles within their own little movie. There's even the incessant need for validation and glory that people on both industries hold, even if they are seated upon the bottom rung of the ladder. Whether that be via words or via having a belt to hold. People crave that sense of fulfilment and pleasure. I get it. Yet there are those who are merely guppies. Small fish, who could be forgotten or lost within the wider ocean, yet believe they are sharks. Believe they are the main course instead of barely an appetiser in the grand scheme of things. Just as there are in Hollywood. How does this relate to us, you might be wondering?
I flash a smirk as an actor walks behind me. Heading across to a spot about two feet outside of the camera's line of sight.
Scott- You see, Brandon. You are the little guppy in this tale. You are the one who wishes to be a shark, foolishly believing by challenging a bigger fish, that you would assume their role. Think of it as me being a primary character within a movie and you being an extra, yet believing that you can simply take my role by beating me up. It's pretty much the same scenario. As much as you might believe that you should be the one in the role. As much as your ego tells you that I am not worthy of the position, reality has a completely different portrait. One in which you are the facade. The man who is playing a role, designed to give you that fulfilment. That sense of purpose you solely lack within your life, whilst I am the genuine article. The one who doesn't need to come out and make grandoise claims. The one who sits here and shows you exactly who he is.
I wiggle back slightly, a calm expression across my face.
Scott- See, the man sitting before you isn't an actor. He isn't somebody who merely plays a role. He doesn't say one thing to your face and another behind your back, like most people in both Hollywood and Wrestling will. If I wanna tell you something, or if I feel the need to engage in discourse with you - I will tell you directly. I don't need to hide behind anybody. Never have and never will. Nor will I try and ham my statements up and sugarcoat them, to the point where it would have been more impactful if I had remained silent. Why?
I mockingly shrug.
Scott- Because what purpose would it serve? What would it truly mean, if I hid my words behind a veil of sweet talk? Why would I try and make it seem like I'm grovelling? I would be lying to you. I would ve lying to them.
I point out at the crowd of actors and crew, imagining them as the general population.
Scott- And most importantly, I would be lying to myself if I took that route. See, I'm a man of action. I'm somebody who has no qualms in telling you exactly how I see things. Or how something is going to be, because I know that when the moment comes for me to stand within the ring and validate those words, I am more than capable of doing so. It's just as I told Jesse. I don't need the validation of anybody else but myself. What others think, doesn't phase me. Hopefully, for your sake, you aren't cut from the same cloth as he is, otherwise the outcome he suffered. The crushing wave that consumed him, shall consume you when we set foot in the ring.
I sigh, rising up to my feet as I outstretch my arms.
Scott- That would be you looking up at the lights, realising that all you had believed. All that Hollywood had instilled within you as being the main man. The lead actor as they call it in the business, was nothing more than a mirage. A means to pump you up, only to be brought down with a thud as it all sinks in. As you finally comprehend that the bed you made yourself. The bite you took out of your mean, was one you just weren't able to swallow. That what you ordered - or asked for - was one step too far for you to overcome.
I soften my voice ever so slightly.
Scott- It's okay though. Just chalk it up to a bad night if you must and find a way to keep going. We all go through speed bumps, as we cut our teeth in this industry. I've been there before during my 14 year career and I'm sure I'll be there again. Much like a bad performance or a subpar casting, a bad night can be shunted to the back of the audience's mind if you follow it up with multiple top-drawer performances. It's up to you to deliver those performances, however.
I then change my inflection into one similar to a teacher scolding a student.
Scott- Otherwise those who you thought were your fans. Those who gave you the validation you desperately craved, will become your worst enemy.
Snapping my fingers, I gently laugh.
Scott- Just like that. I'm sure that is not the outcome you desire. Nobody does. It is merely the reality that awaits you, however, should you fail to prevent the landside. The current that is preparing to sweep you away, come Mayhem.
I put on a mock-sorrowful expression.
Scott- You wouldn't want that, would you?
I then turn my body to the right, walking about four steps before facing the camera once more.
Scott- For I know you don't wish to face reality. You'd much rather live in your own delusions. You'd much rather fool yourself into believing that you are the shark. That regardless of your own faults. Your own missteps, your loyal fans will always stand by your side and eat up whatever you feed them. No matter how rude the awakening you shall receive at Mayhem will truly be.
I purse my lips, squatting as I shoot a steely look forward.
Scott- I'll see you there. Just know that your finality. Your flight into the sun, as you burn like Icarus will be no act. It won't be something you can hit pause on, or cast aside onto the cutting room floor. It will be reality and it will come at my hands.
I make a 'cut' motion, before standing up and making my way out of the studio.
END.
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Post by Brandon Hendrix on Jun 15, 2021 21:51:29 GMT
~Two and A Half Weeks removed from his IIW Television debut~
"My God, Brandon Hendrix in all his years has never seen so many internet virgins throw shade on his name. "Oh Joe Barone isn't a hillbilly redneck piece of trash, he's trying to get into Hollywood!" He's trying, he's trying, he's trying. But yet his tries don't result in what Brandon Hendrix is doing. While this rooty tooty booty punk ass fails to make it to even a forty two second on screen arrival, Brandon Hendrix is the box office attraction. And that's why, just like he failed to make it in Hollywood, you failed to beat "Mr. Hollywood" Brandon Hendrix.
Now from one piece of trash wrestler to another. Scotty Adams. My goodness you had a lot to say about Brandon Hendrix, did you? You decided to mock Brandon Hendrix, which gave you fake fame and fortune you can dream off, and say that Brandon Hendrix isn't a wrestler and that Brandon Hendrix failed at being an actor. Well the hypocrisy is see through old man because you're the biggest failure in IIW. You talk and talk and talk about how you are good. How in your lackluster fourteen year career, you're as good as you were before. If what we saw at World's Collide was your "good", then you have no business talking about Brandon Hendrix. You see, Brandon Hendrix started off a wrestler himself, but overtime, he found Hollywood. Because Brandon Hendrix doesn't want to be a aging delusional troll like you who is wasting roster space when his time is up. You want to talk about your fourteen year career? Brandon Hendrix has been a wrestler for almost a year, and within that year, he done things that ol Scotty Adams fails to do: he wins. Brandon Hendrix main events shows after shows, pay-per-views after pay-per-views, and he wins. You choke when the opportunity comes your way. When you had the whole world watching, waiting to see if you could be THAT guy, what did you do? You CHOKED!!
And are we surprised? Brandon Hendrix isn't. Your fear of choking in big match environments forced your girl, what's that fifty cent hooker name….. Bianca ah yes. Bianca, who wrestled and did below average between those ropes QUIT because she saw your knees TREMBLING under the weight of your own doubt. Your selfish ways forced the supposed love of your life to quit the only thing she seems to be good at. How she must be regretting it each and everyday, watching the man who's claim to fame in IIW is just being known as a average guy who so happened to get a World Championship match live on pay-per-view, let her down.
Speaking of let down, Brandon Hendrix heard your comments on the podcast, and he finds them assuming. You're kick to jump the gun Scott, especially for someone who though won his last fight, didn't leave the ring seemingly all victorious. Getting the three, but laid out for the ten count. How embarrassing, right? You dragged on Brandon Hendrix, who hasn't wrestled a match in six months while off filming one of the biggest action movies that grossed almost a billion, that's four extra zeros than what you're worth, so he hasn't wrestled. But, in the end, Brandon Hendrix always finds his way, and he does what he does best: put on the most must-see performance and knock it out of the park.
This match is like a casting couch for you Scotty Adams. This is where your talents can really shine through. Brandon Hendrix got the lead role, and you're fighting the rest for the supporting cast. Can you handle the embarrassment when you fail then too? You getting a small spotlight placed on you, Brandon Hendrix embracing the spotlight he has and watching you be the artist of Flopping Opportunities do your master work. This is the Key to your success you wished you received at World's Collide. This is your dream old man… so dream big. Your dream will see you standing over Brandon Hendrix, armed raised in the air, and the announcer going "Your winner…. Scotty Adams!" And the thousands upon thousands fans in the crowd chanting your name….. "Scotty! Scotty! Scotty! Scotty!" Then…."
~Brandon Hendrix snaps his fingers, and the visual of Brandon standing inside a mansion. His grey suit on and a wide smile on his face. He fixes the collar of his dress shirt before spreading his arms.~
"You awakened after Brandon Hendrix kept you on that mat for the three count and was declared the winner. You see, beating me is your wet dream when Brandon Hendrix winning is the "ugly truth" you kept throwing around in your ramble of words. Brandon Hendrix is the truth, and trust when he says your punk ass will lose to Brandon Hendrix. You see the real ugly truth is you attack Brandon Hendrix and his lifestyle because you know you don't got nothing else. You wished and wished upon a star that Brandon Hendrix would have failed against Joe Barone but, just like I beat the jobber of the midcard, I have to beat you, the jobber of the World Championship scene. So please, take all that bullshit you did before hand before reaching towards Brandon Hendrix, and you can shove it up your failing ass."
~Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell ringing. The smile reappears on the face of Brandon Hendrix, who walks over to the door and opens the door to see his brand new manager, Shaun Hart.~
"Mr. Hart, thank you for coming down."
"Of course Brandon. You have the contract signed?"
"Signed, sealed and delivered. Oh, excuse Brandon one second. Scotty Adams, times up bitch. Do You Smell What Brandon Is…… Cooking."
~Brandon and Shaun shake hands, ending the segment.~
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