Post by tz on Jan 11, 2006 18:54:18 GMT -5
Life is so very peculiar. One moment it is so glorious, so profound. The next? It can be so dreadful . . . so horrible. My life has been full of glory, and full of dread. However, I find that, in my debut for the Valor Wrestling Alliance on Thunder this Thursday, my opponent seems to believes is life is full of nothing, but atrociousness, and horrible forthcomings. While talent may run through the veins on one Caden Dean, talent can get you no where without drive. So, I guess you could say, when it comes to Thunder, I have more than one mission in my debut match for Valor. Sure, I want to win . . . I probably will. But, my other mission? No matter, what you think Caden, I am going to help you. And, whether you lose to me, or just so happen to get lucky, and do win, I can assure you one thing. At the end of the night, you will have something you have never had in your life before . . . drive.
It is dark out . . . very dark. Few lights surround thee, almost none. For the lights that do exist, they gave off little illumination. Although, that changes rather quickly. Two beams of vibrant, yellow light are approaching, they are approaching extremely fast. As they go by just as quickly as they were spotted, it becomes evident that the place in which the light was encased is inside the front of two headlights at the front of a black, shiny tiny town car. The color could be barely recognizable in this moonlit night if it wasn't for that lights fore-mentioned. The wheels of the car stream across the slightly wet, vacant streets of this interstate which appears to be situated out in the outskirts of some city. Large, or small that city is is not evident at the moment. Although, even though the lights from the stars, and moon in the dim, dark sky above give off very little light, the lights inside the already mentioned car give off much more. They shine across the brown, leather seats illuminating an extremely clean front, and backseat. The back two seats are vacant of any presence except that of a red, Nike gym bag. Though, there is much more action up front. While no sound protrudes from the stereo, the occasional murmur can be heard from the young man driving this particular vehicle. There he sits, hand in chin, elbow situated upon the arm rest. Only one of his hands rests upon the steering wheel, steering the vehicle a long the vacant, straight road. At certain intervals, his soft blue eyes can be seen darting to the clock in front of the black, shiny drive handle. The time reads 10:07 PM. Above the clock is enclosed the CD player while above that is a GPS system, its green map of the surrounding area flashing around the car, and rather wet windows. And, above that are two, small air vents. Suddenly, the man makes a sudden movement in his seat causing his upper-body to become more visible, and the various lights to illuminate his face even more; tan, blue eyes, long brown hair, chiseled chin. Covering his chest, and abdominal area is a black, Black Label Society t-shirt that is rather tight. His ripped jeans rub together a tad as he moves his legs just a bit causing. One of his brown tennis shoes rest on the pedal. Upon surveying this man once more, any wrestling fan could tell that this is none other than WFWF superstar, Justa Mazing, one of the newest editions to the Valor Wrestling Alliance roster. His eyes dart to the speedometer that shines rather brightly in the night, marking his speed at sixty-two. Around the speedometer is situated even more peculiar things showing levels of this, and that on the car. Putting his eyes back on the road a head through the misty window a head, Mazing continues to drive in the night. Then, breaking the silence, Mazing begins to speak without taking his eyes off of their set position.
Mazing: Some people find it rather surprising I enjoy driving a lone on dark, damp nights like these. However, I do not see why it is so surprising. Almost everyone knows I'm a guy that likes to keep to myself. Plus, the silence helps me think . . . I don't get a lot of time to just think about things anymore.
As Mazing cracks his neck making a rather loud noise in the undisturbed silence, the clock flashes to 10:10 PM.
Mazing: At the moment, one thing that has been resting heavily on my mind lately is my debut for the Valor Wrestling Alliance. While the current situation that is the downfall of the WFWF still lingers, a big opportunity a waits me else where. That opportunity? Another chance at fame, another chance at fortune. But, you see, that isn't what it is really all about with me. I can't deny I don't like it, but I never got into this business for the money, or notoriety. I got into professional wrestling, because I LOVE pro-wrestling. People talk about how big my ego is, well, why don't they talk about how big my large my f*cking unbridled passion is for this business for a change? But, that's the thing about people, they look right over the positive aspects of a person, and decipher the negative. I'm a perfect example.
Mazing turns his head over so slightly to look out of the window to his left, staring at one of the few cars that has passed him so far on this deserted street.
Mazing: I haven't poured deep into the depths of the VWA roster so far, but I've definitely checked things out. Which brings me to my opponent at Thunder this coming Thursday, Caden Dean . . . A relative mid-carder, and from what I've seen so far? One of, if not the most talented man on the VWA roster. Now, keep in mind, that was before I joined the Valor ranks, but he's still up there in the top five.
The time quickly changes to 10:16 as Mazing begins to laugh rather softly.
Mazing: Although, as I was saying, people have the tendency to over look the positive aspects of certain people, and jump straight to the negative. Why? The negatives just that much more interesting. And, even though I've "praised" Caden so far, I can't help, but notice his minor, well, major bumps in the road that will keep him from getting to the top of the wrestling business, a place he should be. Although, it looks like he just might keep himself from making it there.
10:17 . .
Mazing: A man over run with amazing skill should be destined to go . . . some where. I mean, it should be obvious he shall succeed if he is that blessed, isn't it? Then again, maybe it isn't. Maybe . . . maybe our eyes deceive us as they do so many times. Maybe it's a different story on the inside than it is on the outside. While thee is blessed with such beautiful skill, maybe thee is cursed with disastrous demons. And, maybe those demons are so disastrous, they could keep a man that has all it takes to accomplish his destiny. Maybe that man . . . is Caden Dean.
Rubbing his shaven chin, Mazing continues to drive deep into the dark night. From what it looks like, the road a head looks just like that of the road so many miles behind.
Mazing: While Caden possesses skills of the magnitude certain men could only dream of, he also possesses things certain men have nightmares about, demons. Demons of all kind; addiction, no pride, no self confidence, and, most of all, no drive to get to the top. As for his addiction troubles? I can't help him with that. Although, I can, and DO plan on helping him with his lack of belief in himself. You see, like I said, you can have the talent it takes, but you got to have the drive. Caden? He doesn't have the drive. Without drive, he's nothing, but another hopeless addict, wrestling only to get enough money to go out, and buy the drugs that feed his demons. He should be grateful you know, grateful for me. Sure, the entire pro-wrestling community should be grateful for being blessed with a man such as Justa Mazing, but Dean? He should be especially grateful. Because, in these types of situations, I'm f*cking, God man. I'm his savior, I'm Jesus Christ!
His face slightly red, Mazing grips the steering wheel harder as the time shifts to 10:23 PM.
Mazing: My mission? To make sure Caden Dean is driven . . . at all costs. No, don't think for a minute I'll lay down for the little bitch, and let him beat me clean in the middle of the ring, to make him happy, because with the troubles he has now, nothing is going to make that bastard happy, but a pipe, and a needle. But, I can beat the holy hell out of him . . . Which I plan to do. I can win the match in the process, too . . . Which I plan to do. So, how do I plan to "help" him you ask?
10:25 . . .
Mazing: It's funny . . . Anger can make people do strange things. Sure, it makes them violent . . . But, it can also make them . . . driven. By the time Thunder if over this Thursday, Caden won't just be angry at me . . . He'll hate me.
Just as he passes a sign reading "Annapolis, Maryland: 2 Miles", the clock strikes 10:27 PM, and Mazing drives off into the night.
It is dark out . . . very dark. Few lights surround thee, almost none. For the lights that do exist, they gave off little illumination. Although, that changes rather quickly. Two beams of vibrant, yellow light are approaching, they are approaching extremely fast. As they go by just as quickly as they were spotted, it becomes evident that the place in which the light was encased is inside the front of two headlights at the front of a black, shiny tiny town car. The color could be barely recognizable in this moonlit night if it wasn't for that lights fore-mentioned. The wheels of the car stream across the slightly wet, vacant streets of this interstate which appears to be situated out in the outskirts of some city. Large, or small that city is is not evident at the moment. Although, even though the lights from the stars, and moon in the dim, dark sky above give off very little light, the lights inside the already mentioned car give off much more. They shine across the brown, leather seats illuminating an extremely clean front, and backseat. The back two seats are vacant of any presence except that of a red, Nike gym bag. Though, there is much more action up front. While no sound protrudes from the stereo, the occasional murmur can be heard from the young man driving this particular vehicle. There he sits, hand in chin, elbow situated upon the arm rest. Only one of his hands rests upon the steering wheel, steering the vehicle a long the vacant, straight road. At certain intervals, his soft blue eyes can be seen darting to the clock in front of the black, shiny drive handle. The time reads 10:07 PM. Above the clock is enclosed the CD player while above that is a GPS system, its green map of the surrounding area flashing around the car, and rather wet windows. And, above that are two, small air vents. Suddenly, the man makes a sudden movement in his seat causing his upper-body to become more visible, and the various lights to illuminate his face even more; tan, blue eyes, long brown hair, chiseled chin. Covering his chest, and abdominal area is a black, Black Label Society t-shirt that is rather tight. His ripped jeans rub together a tad as he moves his legs just a bit causing. One of his brown tennis shoes rest on the pedal. Upon surveying this man once more, any wrestling fan could tell that this is none other than WFWF superstar, Justa Mazing, one of the newest editions to the Valor Wrestling Alliance roster. His eyes dart to the speedometer that shines rather brightly in the night, marking his speed at sixty-two. Around the speedometer is situated even more peculiar things showing levels of this, and that on the car. Putting his eyes back on the road a head through the misty window a head, Mazing continues to drive in the night. Then, breaking the silence, Mazing begins to speak without taking his eyes off of their set position.
Mazing: Some people find it rather surprising I enjoy driving a lone on dark, damp nights like these. However, I do not see why it is so surprising. Almost everyone knows I'm a guy that likes to keep to myself. Plus, the silence helps me think . . . I don't get a lot of time to just think about things anymore.
As Mazing cracks his neck making a rather loud noise in the undisturbed silence, the clock flashes to 10:10 PM.
Mazing: At the moment, one thing that has been resting heavily on my mind lately is my debut for the Valor Wrestling Alliance. While the current situation that is the downfall of the WFWF still lingers, a big opportunity a waits me else where. That opportunity? Another chance at fame, another chance at fortune. But, you see, that isn't what it is really all about with me. I can't deny I don't like it, but I never got into this business for the money, or notoriety. I got into professional wrestling, because I LOVE pro-wrestling. People talk about how big my ego is, well, why don't they talk about how big my large my f*cking unbridled passion is for this business for a change? But, that's the thing about people, they look right over the positive aspects of a person, and decipher the negative. I'm a perfect example.
Mazing turns his head over so slightly to look out of the window to his left, staring at one of the few cars that has passed him so far on this deserted street.
Mazing: I haven't poured deep into the depths of the VWA roster so far, but I've definitely checked things out. Which brings me to my opponent at Thunder this coming Thursday, Caden Dean . . . A relative mid-carder, and from what I've seen so far? One of, if not the most talented man on the VWA roster. Now, keep in mind, that was before I joined the Valor ranks, but he's still up there in the top five.
The time quickly changes to 10:16 as Mazing begins to laugh rather softly.
Mazing: Although, as I was saying, people have the tendency to over look the positive aspects of certain people, and jump straight to the negative. Why? The negatives just that much more interesting. And, even though I've "praised" Caden so far, I can't help, but notice his minor, well, major bumps in the road that will keep him from getting to the top of the wrestling business, a place he should be. Although, it looks like he just might keep himself from making it there.
10:17 . .
Mazing: A man over run with amazing skill should be destined to go . . . some where. I mean, it should be obvious he shall succeed if he is that blessed, isn't it? Then again, maybe it isn't. Maybe . . . maybe our eyes deceive us as they do so many times. Maybe it's a different story on the inside than it is on the outside. While thee is blessed with such beautiful skill, maybe thee is cursed with disastrous demons. And, maybe those demons are so disastrous, they could keep a man that has all it takes to accomplish his destiny. Maybe that man . . . is Caden Dean.
Rubbing his shaven chin, Mazing continues to drive deep into the dark night. From what it looks like, the road a head looks just like that of the road so many miles behind.
Mazing: While Caden possesses skills of the magnitude certain men could only dream of, he also possesses things certain men have nightmares about, demons. Demons of all kind; addiction, no pride, no self confidence, and, most of all, no drive to get to the top. As for his addiction troubles? I can't help him with that. Although, I can, and DO plan on helping him with his lack of belief in himself. You see, like I said, you can have the talent it takes, but you got to have the drive. Caden? He doesn't have the drive. Without drive, he's nothing, but another hopeless addict, wrestling only to get enough money to go out, and buy the drugs that feed his demons. He should be grateful you know, grateful for me. Sure, the entire pro-wrestling community should be grateful for being blessed with a man such as Justa Mazing, but Dean? He should be especially grateful. Because, in these types of situations, I'm f*cking, God man. I'm his savior, I'm Jesus Christ!
His face slightly red, Mazing grips the steering wheel harder as the time shifts to 10:23 PM.
Mazing: My mission? To make sure Caden Dean is driven . . . at all costs. No, don't think for a minute I'll lay down for the little bitch, and let him beat me clean in the middle of the ring, to make him happy, because with the troubles he has now, nothing is going to make that bastard happy, but a pipe, and a needle. But, I can beat the holy hell out of him . . . Which I plan to do. I can win the match in the process, too . . . Which I plan to do. So, how do I plan to "help" him you ask?
10:25 . . .
Mazing: It's funny . . . Anger can make people do strange things. Sure, it makes them violent . . . But, it can also make them . . . driven. By the time Thunder if over this Thursday, Caden won't just be angry at me . . . He'll hate me.
Just as he passes a sign reading "Annapolis, Maryland: 2 Miles", the clock strikes 10:27 PM, and Mazing drives off into the night.
