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JimCaedus · (11-06-2017)

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--MORNING--

I heave the last of the sisters' belongings left at Castle Caedus out the front door, having lost patience in awaiting word from, or the return of, my MIA mistress upon waking. I realize the neighborhood on this islet is full of people more likely to complain rather than scavenge but it feels good to relieve myself of the weight and I can always toss whatever before garbage pickup tomorrow.

I close the door.

"Four Year Flake"

I hesitate before entering the kitchen to prepare myself breakfast, the urge to release some anger overriding the gnawing in my stomach. I can wait a little longer, I'll probably just end up having a couple bowls of Wheaties anyway, like my opponent will be enjoying his ritual waking meal of 3 steins of Budweiser-drowned Frosted Flakes and several bong loads in about 10 hours at the crack of evening.

I turn to head for my studio in back-

::"--RIIING DIIING DOOONG...RING A-DING DING DING DOOONG keep they heads ringin'--"::

-only to have my progress halted by my ridiculously awesome Dr. Dre doorbell. I answer.

It's Floyd holding a camera (as planned) but for the purposes of the promo I act surprised then soften to a smile of recognition into the lens.

I exclaim cordially, "Tommyyyyyyyyyyy." I jam a thumb into my chest. "Jim. Jim Caedus. Call me Jimmy if you'd like, I'd certainly prefer it.

Come in, come in."

::"Tommy" enters and heads for the living room where "he" takes a seat as Jim peruses the bar::

"Can I interest you in a shot?"

::Our view shakes from left to right to left::

"No? You already killed two bottles of Jack didn't you."

::Our view "nods"::

"Would you like a bottle?"

::Our view "nods" again.

::Jim delivers an unopened bottle of blended Monkey Shoulder "Gorilla". We hear the lid being cracked.

Our view takes a drink::

Hey guess what? I've been watchin' you, bro. That little went-nowhere-invitation I extended to the roster to attend the strip club on that cruise ship in the Arctic back in February? You were the only person friendly or ballsy enough to show, remember? Not for nothin' but thank you Tommy; I appreciated that, I really did. And from that more than likely weed-fueled decision-making moment on, I've paid attention to what you've said and done which, admittedly, wasn't much over the past 10 months plus.

Does my confession surprise you?

Judging from your in-ring words this past Savage, I'd say it's safe to assume it does and you wouldn't expect someone like me (you know, a guy who takes his career here seriously and is therefore in turn taken seriously?) to know or- to _care_ to know really, who you are but I do. I've seen you pop up from time to time; lingering, lurking, awaitin' an opportunity to bravely venture forth into the 24/7 arenas to chip at chick and dick champ alike and get your ass kicked...optin' into your regular handful o' matches a year and gettin' your ass kicked...ham-handedly hittin' on 'n harassin' hos in the halls and gettin' your ass kicked...peekin' out o' your nooks and crannies to butt into other people's conversations and gettin' your ass kicked...offerin' up lame "jokes" or pointless comments as you push your mop and bucket past the roster meeting room while us adults are handlin' our business then retiring out front for a Pabst and a doobie only to give the wrong pack o' nogoodnik teenagers the stink-eye and then, yes, gettin' your ass kicked.

Gettin' your ass kicked...

Gettin' your ass kicked...

Gettin' your ass kicked..."

::Our view takes a long swig::

"I know, right?
Well, at least you managed to wrest the HMW strap away successfully from the ever-adorable Squiddo in your last attempt, am I right? So there's _that_.

Still...

Why are you here, dummy? No really, why the fuck are you here? FOUR YEARS on the roster o' this pinnacle promotion and what've you accomplished on the business end? What's your motivation for stickin' around in a competitive capacity? Can't you just dust, dump the garbage, plunge the toilets and collect your checks WITHOUT occasionally opening that mouth, beggin' someone for a backhand...and apparently doin' your damndest to reach the lofty goal o' solidifying your role as the XWF's Barry Horowitz? You really think claiming a 24/7 title that ISN'T the Unified Xtreme belt, a victory over three guys who barely uttered a word or lifted a finger in opposition and a half-assed weak ECW default-setting kendo stick attack throwback with in-ring heralds the oncoming storm of the dreaded Tommy Wish? I hate to say it, hack, but- Fuck am I talkin', I'm HAPPY to say it-"

::Our view downs half the bottle::

"That's right douche, no one cares. None of us gives a damn that you've decided for the first time in four years..._FOUR YEARS_ (I could be wrong but again, with your track record, who cares?)...to finally step up and start actin' like you give as much of a shit about wrestling as you do studiously replacin' the urinal cakes at HQ, breakin' down the ring after every show and strokin' your way via exponential rate through bottle after bottle o' various lotion brands jackin'-off. I mean, _bro_...

FOUR

YEARS

doin' _fuck all_...then you have the _balls_ to bitch on Savage that no one takes you seriously? On the subject of...

The fuck kinda message was that little concessions and/or bathroom break bullshit beat down-into-bravado supposed to send? Essentially, since two o' your opponents were outside the ring, all you did was assault Mr. WS and the ref, whine, then flip to braggin' 'bout "killing off" your opponents' "momentum". "Kill off their momentum", by the way? A dude boasting a 1 and 99 win-loss tally, bx3's headlining enhancement-talent twat and the new guy in his FIRST MATCH? "Kill off whatever momentum"? What momentum, you total fuckin' dipshit? Christ... Anyway, yeah, that was it. Wham, wah, beatcha man. A few whacks, a few tears and you basically claimin' business is about to pick up for Tommy Wish 'cause you're suddenly a dark match king who can fluke his

ass into an ironic victory over two men who nearly always lose and another, much more well spoken soldier, with now ONE XWF match under 'is belt. You the man for bein' curtain-jerker clean-up? Oh shit, I get it now...this is your way of combining your two passions in life: ham-n-eggery and custodial labor, isn't it? Am I wrong? Am I missin' somethin'?"

::Jim looks just past our "Tommy" view::

"Floyd?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we have playback on this?"

"We doooo indeed," he replies with an already heavily buzzed giddiness and playful tone.

::XWF SAVAGE AUDIO PLAYBACK::

Tommy: For four years I have been in this company, four miserable grueling years I have not been taken seriously.

::PAUSE::

"An unfortunate side effect o' not takin' YOURSELF seriously, stupid. Apply yourself. Be consistent for fucksake. You COULD do great things if you TRIED."

Tommy: Well now, I don't care on who I have to hurt on TV in order show everyone that I am the man.

::PAUSE::

"_What_?"

::REWIND::

Tommy: Well now, I don't care on who I have to hurt on TV in order show everyone that I am the man.

::PAUSE::

"One more 'gain, it's legit like "Well, his English is better than my insert-foreign-language-here so I can't complain" with this needle dick half-wit."

::REWIND::

Tommy: Well now, I don't care on who I have to hurt on TV in order show everyone that I am the man.

::PAUSE::

"Ok, I think I got it that time... The man, Tommy?"

::AUDIO REWIND::

.nam eht- :ymmoT Tommy: -the man.

::PAUSE::

"The _man_??"

.nam eht- :ymmoT Tommy: -the man

"_Really_?"

.nam eht- :ymmoT Tommy: -the man. -the man. -the muh-muh muh muh-muh-

"FLOYD! Stop fuckin' around like Max Headroom!"

Tommy: -man.

::PAUSE::

"Sorry."

"The man, Tommy? The man? Theeeee...what," I shrug, "the man who shows those pesky wads o' gum stuck to the sidewalk what for with his trusty paint scraper? The man with the Duh-Class License to operate any and all o' the company's fleet of PowerBoss floorscrubbers? The man who can steam carpet stains to oblivion down at HQ yet can't seem to keep his own teeth any shade paler than white-T-shirt-underarm-pitstain/dried-cum-yuck yellow? 'Cause you couldn't _possibly_ be referrin' to wantin' the rest of us to see you as some sorta sum'in special as a professional wrestler, right? Of course nooooot, you ain't _retarded_...you're just a janitor with big dreams who "cleverly" thought to name 'imself Tommy Wish!"

"Naaaailed iiiit."

"Shut up bitch, I know it. Thomas the Stank Engine here ain't shit but Utilities Gone Mild. A much more apt, duncely, more realistic version o' Will Hunting, undoubtedly his über-eloquent hero...which is sad considering the poor doofus can't seem to voice his own thoughts without the incoherency of a man who took a swung 2x4 (with an extremely long nail protruding) to the forehead and lived to hilariously gibberish his way through tellin' the tale. Anyway..."

Tommy: Personally, I might have a goofy personality outside the ring-

::PAUSE::

I adopt a consoling tone.

"Awwww. Hey now champ, don't be that way. You don't hafta say something about yourself you know ain't true just because you think we wanna hear it. C'mooooon, a "goofy personality"? That's _not_ true, you _don't_ have a personality. You're the stoner who chimes in occasionally but wasn't workin' with staggering intelligence to begin with so all it ever amounts to is some faded nitwit with the energy level of Harrison Ford circa NOW nearly fallin' asleep as he delivers lines that garner either eye-rolls or no reaction whatsoever unless forced via 24/7 title defense or provoked via your existence as an irritating consummate moron. And unlike Tommy Chong or any number of weed loving archetypes in film, you ain't funny nor quirky nor spicy. You're fuckin' tofu."

Tommy: -but when I am in here... I came to kill off whatever momentum these guys have to offer.

::END PLAYBACK::

"That it, Floyd?"

"That's it."

"K, so, as I surmised, Tommy meant to make an impactful prophecy but instead just inaccurately described his scrubicide as killing momentum. Started off strong, left us sayin', "Huh?". Kills his own momentum by claimin' he killed the momentum of men without momentum to kill. Tommy, you're an absolute treasure.

I assume you meant to predict that from _here on out_ you'll be killing momentum, kinda like how I used to refer to myself as the Star Killer and Randy Orton was the Legend Killer, is that it? In that case...you DO realize you'll hafta defeat me then beat me about the head with that super creative kendo stick, yeah? Is that what you want me to think you're plotting? You know I can just as easily "scheme" to have my 3 'Fuckers-in-arms BWP, The Eng' and The Bourbs come down to the ring for a good ol' fashioned 4-on-1 fuckfest, right? Hell with momentum, we might kill YOU."

::Our "Tommy" view goes to work downing the other half of the bottle before Jim stops us::

"Naaaaah, I won't do that though Tom. I'm not exactly known for that type o' madness. If you REALLY wanna pull that shit on me, you go right ahead. Attack Jim Caedus after the match. See how far it gets you. You could jump the Living Legend The Doc him_self_ before or after a match and it'd still lead you to the same place, chump: nowhere. You know why?

We more than likely would've just beaten you and, in pursuit of draining your credibility in context of "killing our momentum", would gladly do it again. And again. And again. ...And if the thought ever suited us, WE would enact our _own_ pre or post match beat down because doing so while majority defeating opponents is how to successfully and effectively carry out that attitude. If all you do is overkill easy prey and attack the big game after they whip your ass, you're gonna piss the wrong person off, or ALL of the wrong people, and suddenly find yourself unable to avoid having to collect your teeth every time you show your face. You don't want that, Tommy, you can't afford that kinda dentistry even WITH your hourly custodial wage and your job squad same day pay.

This isn't meant to discourage you, by the way. This is meant to motivate you. I failed to motivate Barney to will himself to fully take me down and go on in the ring. I failed to motivate Danny Imperial to be original, hopefully Cadryn can. I failed to motivate Chris Chaos to stop with the faggoty "Jenny Myst" phone calls- wait, has he stopped?"

"I don't know, I'll ask around."

"Anyhoo, as far as I _know_, I've failed to motivate anyone I've attempted to coerce into exploring and reaching the potential I know they possess...but that won't stop me from continuing to try to convince others to push themselves to improve and that's happening here and now. This is your opportunity, Tommy. Your opportunity to amp it up. To challenge yourself. And IF you should fail to defeat me...it's your opportunity to USE that as motivation to try HARDER, NOT slink off all frustrated back into the shadows to wait until you feel the itch to "try" again next year. You talk of momentum. You don't ever give yourself the chance to build any, you idiot. You wanna be taken seriously? Have some self respect, expend some effort and earn it, I'll be among OR the first to congratulate you.

So?

What's it gonna be? Drive or drivel? Evolution or static?

Adaptation?

Or...

Annihilation?"

"I guess by the time Savage rolls around we'll all know whether you plan on aspiring to greatness or are truly destined for never-was status before inevitably ending the comedy that is your "career" via expanding your mind with a hollow point bullet.

Decisions, decisions.

Good luck, Tommy...and see ya soon."

::"Tommy" actually DOES empty the remaining half of the bottle this time::

"Jesus, Floyd! Take it easy, it's 7 somethin' in the mor-"

::STATIC::

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