Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2013 18:59:35 GMT -6
Whew. What an exhausting flight to Tokyo, Japan! Flying commercial for nearly a day beside a kid who insisted on playing the Disney movie ’Mulan’ over and over again until her three dollar DVD player began to skip ; being served packets of nasty ass edamame over the usual dry roasted peanuts in the states ; being told that my blow up doll couldn’t fly with me.. After I continually insisted that she LOVED window seats?! (They make her frisky!) Completely bogus. Needless to say, I felt so ADHD, having no access to entertainment, real nourishment, or snatch. The only thing I walked off that plane with was a pair of blood shot eyes and a bitter taste in my mouth.
Unfortunately, the limousine ride to the hotel wasn’t much better. A Japanese man by the name of Kenji greeted me as I walked out with my plethora of belongings, and after not assisting to help, and after insisting that I remove my Converse Allstars before taking a seat in the limo, he down right refused to take me to a Burger King. Yeah, maybe I wasn’t too well cultured. I didn’t know much about the sights, the lingo, or the food in Japan, but I had bagged my fair share of Japanese women, and where there was a hot Japanese woman, there was a way!
”Stop! I want to go in there! It’s a restaurant, yes?”
”Eeeeeee, uhhhhhhh, yah! Yah!”
I didn’t understand him much, as the English language obviously wasn’t his area of Expertise ; so I tuned him out, issued a smile and continued on as if he was Hunter Valentyne giving me pointers on being a great World Heavyweight Champion.
”She’s pretty fucking hot, yeah, Kenji?”
”Yah, yah! Hote! Heh!”
”I’d kill to sample her raw bar…”
”Raw! Feesh! Suuuushi! Vrummm, vrummmm! Heh!”
I looked at him through the small crack in the glass that separated us. I’m not gonna lie, that last comment caught me off guard, along with him jumping up and gripping the steering wheel with a newfound glee.
”Smell like tuuuunah, test lie cheekan!”, he continued.
”Better yet. Just uhhh. Proceed to the hotel, Kenji. I’ve got some Kudos bars in one of my bags. I’ll just munch on those…”
God damn this place was sketchy! And if this was any indication of what I was getting myself into by making my redebut in New Edge Wrestling, I wasn’t going to have the best of times. Sigh. But who was I fooling, man? At this point, there were already people who were depending on me. Which, before, wouldn’t have necessarily stopped me, being that I was, and still am, a man who stood up for what was right. And everyone knew that if things weren’t going the right way, or if that old game of politics wasn’t working in MY favor, I would usually bail. But it was no longer that easy.
I was in this for the man who first opened my eyes to the true art of this industry - Jesse Styles. My good friend and tag team partner Jarek Whitaker. And… the one true motivating factor of becoming Black Out Champion - something that only three others before me had been able to do. I couldn‘t spit in the faces of the ones that truly did believe in me, my fans included. And I damn sure couldn‘t continue denying myself the chance at succeeding here in New Edge.
To get there, though? I had to get ‘it’ back. For once I had to actually stick around. I needed to show these people I meant business. I had to once again dedicate my life to this, pouring my heart and soul into it like I did back when I defeated the likes of Roger Wright, Matt Slater, and Cera. Even if the aforementioned politics were CLEARLY not in my favor, who gave a shit? I needed to focus solely on myself, and what I was doing. #Winning.
Upon my arrival and check-in at the hotel, I would drag all my bags along the harsh pavement, exhausted and fatigued by this point. And there went Kenji’s ass. Waving me ’bye’ as he would take off in the limo, leaving me to fend for myself. As I inserted the key card into the front door of the room, I instantly smiled. It was pretty spacey, and decked out. My bloodshot eyes instantly focused in on a basket that laid along the table in the living area.
The basket was surrounded by Red Bull energy drinks, and contained bottles of cold, Premium vodka, bags of m&m’s, a… pack of disposable razors?!!
“WaIt A mInUtE~!~!!”
My eyes began to water. The sharp blades enclosed in this packaging ; this packaging of squiggly characters with a picture on the back that resembled Sasquatch. This was a very nerve-wrecking, yet humbling moment in time for me. Up to this point, I had never put a disposable razor to my face.
Eh, call me a ‘fag’, Davey Dynamo. But we both know who gets the pussy.
Shaving the unkept hair on my face was the final step of this whole ’redebut’ process though, having already mentally accepted the fact that there was no turning back. Grabbing the shaving cream that contained a small note that said ‘SHAVE, BITCH -JS” on it, I was bound and determined to go for it. Right then, right there. …Until I noticed another item in the basket.
”Wh… What?!?!?!?!
I slammed the razors and cream back into the basket, and rushed to my duffle bag that contained my Nintendo DSi. I whipped it out, and inserted the cartridge into the system, before pulling out the ‘instruction manual’. But there was no manual. There was simply a sheet of computer paper with ‘Exclusive Prototype’ typed along it. My eyes damn near bulged out of my head, as I unpacked my laptop.
”This is going to be awesome! I bet there’s a Walkthrough on Youtube of this! I need to know which Pocket Rocket to pick for that first gym. I hope the leader is as hot as Roxeanne from the Pokemon series. Drool central!”
I stumbled upon ONE walkthrough video for this. The title was ‘Davey Dynamo plays Pocket Rockets’. The duration of the video? 3 minutes. I scratched my forehead, once again glancing down at this sheet of paper that said ‘Exclusive Prototype’, now noticing that there was no back cover art whatsoever to this box.
”Is this some weak attempt at getting to me?”, I asked aloud, confused but with a smile on my face.
The video would begin to play.
---
Davey Dynamo ; “Where the fuck is Jesse. This game gives you no direction, just throws you to the fucking wolves.”
Unknown Voice ; “Kindergarten children figured this game out.”
Davey Dynamo ; “Yeah and look at them now. They are in their parents basement dressing like Magikarp and most are obese.”
Unknown Voice ; “Just walk forward you moron.”
---
”Ha ha! Yep! It sure is!”
---
Davey Dynamo ; “That was a waste of fucking time. Why couldn’t he just be there to begin with. Why’d I have to go through all the pomp and circumstance to wind up in the same fucking spot?”
“Shane: Boss! I’m fed up with waiting!”
“Jesse: Shane? Let me think…Oh, that’s right, I told you to come! Just wait! Here, Davey! There are 3 Pocket Rockets here! Ha Ha! They are inside Pocket Balls. When I was young, I was a serious Pocket Rocket trainer! In my old age, I have only 3 left, but you can have one! Choose!”
---
I shook my head, trying to hold back laughter as I dropped the Nintendo DSi along the desk and X’ed out of Youtube.
”Golf claaaaap!“, I blurted out, clapping with the tips of my index fingers.
“So THIS.. Is how he gets back at me? This is how he makes his ’move’? This game?! Choosing me as a ‘rival master’ in a shitastic Pokemon spinoff is supposed to constitute a flame war? It’s supposed to make him look like a bad ass, and like the better man? If anything, I’d say that the CREATOR OF THE GAME made a rather nice attempt at the game. He brought the humor, and all the substance to this mere ‘promo’ of yours. You, on the other hand? You failed. As always, bro.”
“First and foremost, if you’re going to present something like this in an attempt to humiliate and embarrass me? Invest some money into it. All that money you collected from your two career wins… and this is the best you could do?! Hah. Secondly, if you’re going to try to ‘show me up’, so to speak, don’t do my dirty work for me in pointing out your flaws, and degrading yourself for your lack of intelligence. I’m not sure how that’s supposed to intimidate me, bro. If anything, you came across as stupid, when in actuality you really did have a witty idea tucked in your back pocket.”
“Then again, isn’t that pretty much the story of your life? Your New Edge career, atleast? Always coming up short? Always the bitch on the back of the motorcycle, never the driver? I recall two years ago when I had attempted to form a little group known as MisRepresented. It was myself, Lucas McCann, Judas Dathan and you. Three experienced upper midcarders and an inexperienced lackey. What can I say? Every good group needs its’ filler. And that’s what you were for us, bro. We never could take off because you held us back. I gave you that ‘direction’ you craved as an undefeated talent in this company and you didn’t know what to do with it. You essentially bit the hand that fed you, and now you go and cut a promo over a spinoff game of Pokemon? Makes sense when ya think about it.”
“Why would a man, with so much at stake and with so many skeletons in his professional closet want to address the man who could tell the world ALL about them, when he could simply revert to played out tactics like this to save face?! Davey Dynamo played it smart, but I’m not that naive, Davey. I’ll throw you under the bus if it means I get a one up in my career. In a heartbeat. I’ll ridicule you and humiliate you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and I’ll expose you for the dipshit lackey that you truly are. Everyone knows this. You know this.”
“But truth be told? You’re not worth all that. You’re not on my level, bro. I’m the Hall of Famer in this situation. I’m the one who’s going after the Youngblood Championship to pursue a bigger goal - becoming the fourth Black Out title holder of New Edge Wrestling. Quite frankly, you’re a stepping stone. A fucking Welcome mat. The used and abused floor of an adult movie theater. You matter not to me, as you’re only chasing after the Youngblood title because it’s the only belt you COULD go after, at this point.”
“I know what the Youngblood title represents. And it’s not the most popular accomplishment in New Edge. It’s pretty much the beginner’s trophy in New Edge - the starting place. I’ll confess, the majority of the upper talent here in New Edge has held the belt at one time or another. Myself? Well, what can I say. I started at the top. The fucking World title was the FIRST belt I ever obtained here. That was MY beginning. How many beginnings has Davey Dynamo had? We’d be here all day if I entertained THAT topic.”
I picked up the ‘Pocket Rockets’ box, stuffing the cartridge back inside of it before grabbing a long, Bic candle lighter.
”Close, man. But no cigar.
I would lay the burning box along the table of the Tokyo hotel room, propping my legs up onto it on the other end as I took a seat on the couch.
”Your actions have said a lot. They pretty much had to, being that you haven’t said much this whole time. You weren’t man enough to go blow for blow with me. You took the cowardly way out, after going on and on.. Week after week about how winning this Youngblood Title contendership match meant so much to you. Hah. I can tell!”
I would sit up against the couch, once again grabbing the pack of disposable razors and shaving cream from the basket, staring dead at the camera now.
”Davey Dynamo, you wanted to fight for this? You wanted a war? You wanted to go toe to toe for this opportunity? Let’s do this shit. Sunday night at Kamikaze when I make my redebut I’ll do to you what you couldn’t do to me. I’ll humiliate you. I’ll destroy you. I’ll further bruise your already shaken ego. I’ll become the number one contender for the Youngblood Championship, and I’ll do it at your expense.”
“Sparx WILL fly… in Tokyo.”
Sparkichu used Teleport. Bitch!
Unfortunately, the limousine ride to the hotel wasn’t much better. A Japanese man by the name of Kenji greeted me as I walked out with my plethora of belongings, and after not assisting to help, and after insisting that I remove my Converse Allstars before taking a seat in the limo, he down right refused to take me to a Burger King. Yeah, maybe I wasn’t too well cultured. I didn’t know much about the sights, the lingo, or the food in Japan, but I had bagged my fair share of Japanese women, and where there was a hot Japanese woman, there was a way!
”Stop! I want to go in there! It’s a restaurant, yes?”
”Eeeeeee, uhhhhhhh, yah! Yah!”
I didn’t understand him much, as the English language obviously wasn’t his area of Expertise ; so I tuned him out, issued a smile and continued on as if he was Hunter Valentyne giving me pointers on being a great World Heavyweight Champion.
”She’s pretty fucking hot, yeah, Kenji?”
”Yah, yah! Hote! Heh!”
”I’d kill to sample her raw bar…”
”Raw! Feesh! Suuuushi! Vrummm, vrummmm! Heh!”
I looked at him through the small crack in the glass that separated us. I’m not gonna lie, that last comment caught me off guard, along with him jumping up and gripping the steering wheel with a newfound glee.
”Smell like tuuuunah, test lie cheekan!”, he continued.
”Better yet. Just uhhh. Proceed to the hotel, Kenji. I’ve got some Kudos bars in one of my bags. I’ll just munch on those…”
God damn this place was sketchy! And if this was any indication of what I was getting myself into by making my redebut in New Edge Wrestling, I wasn’t going to have the best of times. Sigh. But who was I fooling, man? At this point, there were already people who were depending on me. Which, before, wouldn’t have necessarily stopped me, being that I was, and still am, a man who stood up for what was right. And everyone knew that if things weren’t going the right way, or if that old game of politics wasn’t working in MY favor, I would usually bail. But it was no longer that easy.
I was in this for the man who first opened my eyes to the true art of this industry - Jesse Styles. My good friend and tag team partner Jarek Whitaker. And… the one true motivating factor of becoming Black Out Champion - something that only three others before me had been able to do. I couldn‘t spit in the faces of the ones that truly did believe in me, my fans included. And I damn sure couldn‘t continue denying myself the chance at succeeding here in New Edge.
To get there, though? I had to get ‘it’ back. For once I had to actually stick around. I needed to show these people I meant business. I had to once again dedicate my life to this, pouring my heart and soul into it like I did back when I defeated the likes of Roger Wright, Matt Slater, and Cera. Even if the aforementioned politics were CLEARLY not in my favor, who gave a shit? I needed to focus solely on myself, and what I was doing. #Winning.
Upon my arrival and check-in at the hotel, I would drag all my bags along the harsh pavement, exhausted and fatigued by this point. And there went Kenji’s ass. Waving me ’bye’ as he would take off in the limo, leaving me to fend for myself. As I inserted the key card into the front door of the room, I instantly smiled. It was pretty spacey, and decked out. My bloodshot eyes instantly focused in on a basket that laid along the table in the living area.
The basket was surrounded by Red Bull energy drinks, and contained bottles of cold, Premium vodka, bags of m&m’s, a… pack of disposable razors?!!
“WaIt A mInUtE~!~!!”
My eyes began to water. The sharp blades enclosed in this packaging ; this packaging of squiggly characters with a picture on the back that resembled Sasquatch. This was a very nerve-wrecking, yet humbling moment in time for me. Up to this point, I had never put a disposable razor to my face.
Eh, call me a ‘fag’, Davey Dynamo. But we both know who gets the pussy.
Shaving the unkept hair on my face was the final step of this whole ’redebut’ process though, having already mentally accepted the fact that there was no turning back. Grabbing the shaving cream that contained a small note that said ‘SHAVE, BITCH -JS” on it, I was bound and determined to go for it. Right then, right there. …Until I noticed another item in the basket.
”Wh… What?!?!?!?!
I slammed the razors and cream back into the basket, and rushed to my duffle bag that contained my Nintendo DSi. I whipped it out, and inserted the cartridge into the system, before pulling out the ‘instruction manual’. But there was no manual. There was simply a sheet of computer paper with ‘Exclusive Prototype’ typed along it. My eyes damn near bulged out of my head, as I unpacked my laptop.
”This is going to be awesome! I bet there’s a Walkthrough on Youtube of this! I need to know which Pocket Rocket to pick for that first gym. I hope the leader is as hot as Roxeanne from the Pokemon series. Drool central!”
I stumbled upon ONE walkthrough video for this. The title was ‘Davey Dynamo plays Pocket Rockets’. The duration of the video? 3 minutes. I scratched my forehead, once again glancing down at this sheet of paper that said ‘Exclusive Prototype’, now noticing that there was no back cover art whatsoever to this box.
”Is this some weak attempt at getting to me?”, I asked aloud, confused but with a smile on my face.
The video would begin to play.
---
Davey Dynamo ; “Where the fuck is Jesse. This game gives you no direction, just throws you to the fucking wolves.”
Unknown Voice ; “Kindergarten children figured this game out.”
Davey Dynamo ; “Yeah and look at them now. They are in their parents basement dressing like Magikarp and most are obese.”
Unknown Voice ; “Just walk forward you moron.”
---
”Ha ha! Yep! It sure is!”
---
Davey Dynamo ; “That was a waste of fucking time. Why couldn’t he just be there to begin with. Why’d I have to go through all the pomp and circumstance to wind up in the same fucking spot?”
“Shane: Boss! I’m fed up with waiting!”
“Jesse: Shane? Let me think…Oh, that’s right, I told you to come! Just wait! Here, Davey! There are 3 Pocket Rockets here! Ha Ha! They are inside Pocket Balls. When I was young, I was a serious Pocket Rocket trainer! In my old age, I have only 3 left, but you can have one! Choose!”
---
I shook my head, trying to hold back laughter as I dropped the Nintendo DSi along the desk and X’ed out of Youtube.
”Golf claaaaap!“, I blurted out, clapping with the tips of my index fingers.
“So THIS.. Is how he gets back at me? This is how he makes his ’move’? This game?! Choosing me as a ‘rival master’ in a shitastic Pokemon spinoff is supposed to constitute a flame war? It’s supposed to make him look like a bad ass, and like the better man? If anything, I’d say that the CREATOR OF THE GAME made a rather nice attempt at the game. He brought the humor, and all the substance to this mere ‘promo’ of yours. You, on the other hand? You failed. As always, bro.”
“First and foremost, if you’re going to present something like this in an attempt to humiliate and embarrass me? Invest some money into it. All that money you collected from your two career wins… and this is the best you could do?! Hah. Secondly, if you’re going to try to ‘show me up’, so to speak, don’t do my dirty work for me in pointing out your flaws, and degrading yourself for your lack of intelligence. I’m not sure how that’s supposed to intimidate me, bro. If anything, you came across as stupid, when in actuality you really did have a witty idea tucked in your back pocket.”
“Then again, isn’t that pretty much the story of your life? Your New Edge career, atleast? Always coming up short? Always the bitch on the back of the motorcycle, never the driver? I recall two years ago when I had attempted to form a little group known as MisRepresented. It was myself, Lucas McCann, Judas Dathan and you. Three experienced upper midcarders and an inexperienced lackey. What can I say? Every good group needs its’ filler. And that’s what you were for us, bro. We never could take off because you held us back. I gave you that ‘direction’ you craved as an undefeated talent in this company and you didn’t know what to do with it. You essentially bit the hand that fed you, and now you go and cut a promo over a spinoff game of Pokemon? Makes sense when ya think about it.”
“Why would a man, with so much at stake and with so many skeletons in his professional closet want to address the man who could tell the world ALL about them, when he could simply revert to played out tactics like this to save face?! Davey Dynamo played it smart, but I’m not that naive, Davey. I’ll throw you under the bus if it means I get a one up in my career. In a heartbeat. I’ll ridicule you and humiliate you in ways you couldn’t imagine, and I’ll expose you for the dipshit lackey that you truly are. Everyone knows this. You know this.”
“But truth be told? You’re not worth all that. You’re not on my level, bro. I’m the Hall of Famer in this situation. I’m the one who’s going after the Youngblood Championship to pursue a bigger goal - becoming the fourth Black Out title holder of New Edge Wrestling. Quite frankly, you’re a stepping stone. A fucking Welcome mat. The used and abused floor of an adult movie theater. You matter not to me, as you’re only chasing after the Youngblood title because it’s the only belt you COULD go after, at this point.”
“I know what the Youngblood title represents. And it’s not the most popular accomplishment in New Edge. It’s pretty much the beginner’s trophy in New Edge - the starting place. I’ll confess, the majority of the upper talent here in New Edge has held the belt at one time or another. Myself? Well, what can I say. I started at the top. The fucking World title was the FIRST belt I ever obtained here. That was MY beginning. How many beginnings has Davey Dynamo had? We’d be here all day if I entertained THAT topic.”
I picked up the ‘Pocket Rockets’ box, stuffing the cartridge back inside of it before grabbing a long, Bic candle lighter.
”Close, man. But no cigar.
I would lay the burning box along the table of the Tokyo hotel room, propping my legs up onto it on the other end as I took a seat on the couch.
”Your actions have said a lot. They pretty much had to, being that you haven’t said much this whole time. You weren’t man enough to go blow for blow with me. You took the cowardly way out, after going on and on.. Week after week about how winning this Youngblood Title contendership match meant so much to you. Hah. I can tell!”
I would sit up against the couch, once again grabbing the pack of disposable razors and shaving cream from the basket, staring dead at the camera now.
”Davey Dynamo, you wanted to fight for this? You wanted a war? You wanted to go toe to toe for this opportunity? Let’s do this shit. Sunday night at Kamikaze when I make my redebut I’ll do to you what you couldn’t do to me. I’ll humiliate you. I’ll destroy you. I’ll further bruise your already shaken ego. I’ll become the number one contender for the Youngblood Championship, and I’ll do it at your expense.”
“Sparx WILL fly… in Tokyo.”
Sparkichu used Teleport. Bitch!