Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2013 21:33:04 GMT -6
The scene opens up to Lost in Time lying in a hospital bed in Cincinnati, Ohio. He’s all alone just pondering on what happened to him last night and how he blew his shot at the Terrordome.
If only I had prepared. I didn’t do any work or preparation leading up to this match against Patrick and Drake. I wasn’t in the gym at all; I wasn’t watching previous fights, and most of all I hadn’t even thought about the match prior to that night. I blew it, and cannot blame my loss on anyone else, but myself.
There were some other factors though… The fact that my match was literally a handicap match. What was Jesse thinking when he set up this card? Why would you put a tag team against one individual in a qualifying match for the Terrordome? Typical Jesse, not really thinking about these things. He’s too busy thinking about himself and his little group. I survived for a long time, which was an upside. But, I also took probably the worst beating of my life.
I had barbwire wrapped around my throat and was choked with it by Drake Blake. I was burned by the flames surrounding the ring several times. My nurse said these are some of the worst burns she’s seen in all her time as a severe burn specialist. I had third degree burns on the back of my bald head, down my neck and covering my back and shoulders. I couldn’t even lie on my back; I had to lie on my side. Drake did what he had to do, and I respect him for that, he hurt others to win. But, that’s not how it ended, Patrick Jones let him do the damage and then capitalized on it and took the victory for himself. What can I say? The sun shines on a dog’s butt every now and then.
He made a splash last night, but he won’t win the Terrordome, even he knows that. The Terrordome consists of the selfish tag team partner Patrick Jones, the punching bag of Jesse Styles, Scarlett Styles, who also has her tag team partner in the Terrordome also, in Ryan Omega, and all-around good guy. Next up we have Hunter Valentyne, a dick head who does everything for himself and does whatever he needs to win. Then, Matt Slater, who is very smart and I think he has a shot.
It’s obvious who is gonna win. Hunter Valentyne because he does stuff for himself and only himself. He will definitely come out on top. All of these dumbasses should have taken a week off to rest though. The only ones who were smart enough to do so were Matt Slater and Ryan Omega, both who don’t really have a shot in that Terrordome match.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the nightstand next to his hospital bed. He quickly glanced at the screen and it was a text from Vanessa. He hit her name and the text message rage, “You’re against Ray Andrews this week on Ignite. Good luck!”
He set the phone back down on the nightstand and his door opens up quickly as Shannon and his trophy, Malory, walk into the plain eggshell colored room. “Hey, hon how are you feeling?” Malory asked.
“I’m feeling fine thanks,” Lost said with a pained look on his face.
“So…have you figured out who you’re facing this week yet?” Shannon questioned.
Lost picked his smartphone up off of the table, opened the message, and then handed the phone over to Shannon. Shannon squinted down at the phone for a few seconds and looks up at Lost. “Ray Andrews. Well, it’s a big match for you my man. It’ll be a tough match for you, but if you beat him you’ll get big push up in the rankings.”
“Probably not that big of a push though. Considering that Jesse is the owner and Ray is sucking his cock every night. If I win it might be a negative,” Lost said with a laugh.
“Yeah, this week he was taking requests from Jesse on who to take out. He’s just trying to get on Jesse’s good side. But, I don’t think it’s gonna come easy either.”
“Can you guys get me checked out of here? I just want to get focused on this match with “The King of Pain” Ray Andrews aka the “Bitch of the Styles Mafia.”
“I don’t know Lost, I think you may need to let those burns heal a little more. I mean look at those things, gruesome,” Shannon said in a look of concern.
“I can’t have a repeat of last week, I need to get prepared. I need to focus on the task at hand. I lost my match to get into the Terrordome. I fucked up. That loss humbled me, a little bit. My first loss was to Roger Wright. Hell, half of this fed had lost to Roger. But, now I lose to Patrick Jones? Why? Because I didn’t focus on my match, that’s why. I need this victory Shannon. Please, just go up to the front desk and see if they’ll let me go.”
“I think it might be a better idea if Malory did this. It’s a job more suited for her style,” the dark man said with a wink to Lost. Malory clearly didn’t understand what he meant, so Shannon had to whisper into her ear the plan.
She was soon on her way to the front desk. The glow of the screen showed on the man’s face. He was a short, middle-aged, pudgy man who sat behind the desk with a serious look on his face. He peered over the screen towards the blonde bombshell, with a look, almost to say “What do you want?”
Malory just smiled and leaned over the counter revealing some of her cleavage. “I need to check somebody out of the hospital, sir.”
“Well, we can’t just let anybody out, so we need to know the name of said patient,” the man said with a smile on his face as he stared out her breasts without trying to hide it.
“His name is Lost in Time.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“Well, he is a professional wrestler. I don’t know if he’s in under that name or his real name.”
“Okay, that name is fine. It says right here that he can’t be released until at least Saturday. He has severe third degree burns down the back of his neck and if those get injured again it could become even more serious.”
“But, he needs to be out tonight. I’ll do anything to get him out of here,” she said with desperation coming from her voice.
“Anything?” the little pervert said.
“Oh yeah,” Malory said as she went behind the desk and pulled him down with her, as the scene goes back to Lost’s hospital room.
“What is taking her so long?” Lost said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. He just wanted to get out of this goddamned hospital room. If it weren’t for Drake Blake he wouldn’t be here right now and could be out training for his upcoming match.
“She has to do a thorough job. I can’t believe you are okay with your girlfriend fucking some stranger.”
“I saw the guy when I was brought in here, trust me, I know he has no STD’s or shit. This is probably his first. Man, she would be a good first,” he said with a grin on his face.
“I saw him too, I know what you mean. So, haven’t heard anything from the “Iceman” at all this week have you?”
“Nope, not after I dropped his ass at Ignite 147. I see he is still on a cold spell and still hasn’t won a match since joining New Edge. Maybe that’s why his nickname is the “Iceman.”
Shannon starts to laugh, “This week he’s facing Dixie Clement, the Youngblood Champion, for the belt too! So he should receive another ass whippin’.”
Lost stared at Shannon with a look of confusion on his face, “How did he get a shot at the Youngblood Title when he hasn’t even won a match? And I’m not even in consideration for the belt? Since my return I’ve beat Damion “The Shadow” Jones, I’ve won a fatal four-way, I’ve won a triple-threat match, I won at World War X, and my only losses have been to Roger Wright, a legend in NEW and Patrick Jones, an up and comer with serious skills.”
Lost and Shannon both nod their heads in agreement as the door comes swinging open. Malory looks at them both and smiles as she wipes her lips. “All done! You’re cleared to go baby!”
“Thanks,” he says seriously as he gets out of the bed and winces as he arches his back. His scabbed up back looks horrible and he can’t even get his shirt on, so he just puts on a pair of jeans as they start to walk out of the building. As they come to the front desk, they see the secretary man smiling with his messed up hair as he just lets them walk on bye.
“Now, we just have to get on a quick flight to Pittsburgh so I can get ready and we will be good and ready for me to win on Sunday night.”
They get a cab to the airport and soon enough they are boarding a flight first class to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. “Is this your first time going to Pittsburgh babe?” Malory asks.
“No, I’ve been there for previous events; it’s a pretty damn cool city.”
“Yeah, I heard there’s some statue of a famous football player in the airport. I guess he couldn’t even speak English, he was Italian.”
Lost just rolled his eyes. “No, he could speak English very well; he was actually born in America. The statue is of one of the most famous plays in football history. The Immaculate Reception. The Raiders had drove down and scored and the Steelers got the ball back with just a little over a minute left in the game down by one point. Keep in mind this was all in the playoffs. The Raiders had shut the Steelers down and it was fourth and ten on their own 40 with about 20 seconds left. Terry Bradshaw threw the ball downfield and it bounced off of one of the two players. There was a big controversy over who it hit, because it was a playoff game.”
“So that’s why they have a statue of some lame football player?”
“He’s not lame and yes. The Raiders players often call it The Immaculate Deception because they felt they had gotten ripped off. All I have to say is if Ray Andrews does beat me this week, it will be The Immaculate Deception.”
Lost continued, “You see Immaculate means helped by a greater force, and if he beats me it will be a deception of pure luck. So it will be pure luck and he will have to have help from a greater force, and amazing being to beat me. But I will win this week, or it will be an Immaculate Deception.”