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Roman · (12-18-2019)

(Shouldn’t you be preparing for your match?”

At this point, it isn’t even clear why I decided to go out drinking instead of training for my match. Maybe it’s because I had heard that dad was hitting up all the hotspots in town and I thought it might be a good opportunity to meet up and maybe have a conversation about why he never came to visit. Actually, that’s exactly it, but hey, he invited some camera’s to follow him around for the night, so preparing for his match? Pffft, he’ll kill two birds with one stone and maybe catch a little “XW-Drama” on film for what would surely become a smokin’ promo. Work smarter, not harder, as he always says.

Needless to say, it was becoming increasingly clear that his odds of hitting the jackpot on one of the many slot machines he had played that night were probably better than the odds of him ending up in the right bar at the right time to actually bump into Centurion.

That apparently means gambling all of his money away.

We open up inside of an undisclosed bar and casino. There, a nearly broke Roman is sitting in front of a digital slot machine, flanks by two blue haired old ladies with buckets of quarters that they’re gleefully feeding into those machines.

Up from behind steps a third blue haired old lady, as she was passing by, she immediately recognizes Roman.)

Third Old Lady: Oh my goodness, you’re Andy Cortinovis!

(Roman gets a nervous look on his face as the first and second old ladies sitting beside him also recognize him and have begun to gush over their favorite wrestler when they were young.)

Roman: ...Uh, I think that you guys have me confused with someon…

(The third old lady gets a confused look oh her face as she just continues.)

Third Old Lady: Om my goodness, how do you continue to look so young? I swear, you look the same as you did the first time I ever saw you… Let’s see, that was?...

(At this point Roman figures that the night has been a bust anyway, might as well have some fun at the old ladies expense.)

Roman: You know? A lot of people assume that I must have a very good doctor, but can you believe that I’ve never once had any work done?

Third Old Lady: Oh? You must have some really good genes then!

(She exclaims before the other two old women both join her in a flirtatious giggle.)

Roman: Yeah, I must?... Or it could be the bird shit…

(The three old women looked to one another as they struggled to understand the punch line.)

Roman: Yeah, no shit! I met this witch doctor who told me that dried and powdered Nightingale droppings, mixed with my urine, and applied to my face once a month, would keep me looking young forever. So maybe it’s that?

(Roman pulls the arm on the slot machine as the women seem to lose interest in him.)

[Image: ezgif-7-af2dd80a4b60.gif]

(Holy shit! Roman can’t believe it, and just when he thought it was Top Romain for the rest of the month, $20,000.00 jackpot! He jumped from his seat and began spazzing out over his good fortune, but Roman soon noticed that his jackpot wasn’t the biggest deal in the place at that moment. There was a big commotion up by the bar. Hundreds of people were all pushing in, trying to get a look at something or someone, but Roman couldn’t see past the crowd.

Roman cashed out the machine and took his redemption slip to the cashier's booth. It took awhile to get his money, and they had to get manager approval for such a large amount, but eventually Roman had his 20k in hand and decided to get a drink and see what all the commotion was about earlier.)

Roman: Cosmopolitan.

(The bartender gave him a funny look at first, but soon enough Roman had his drink in hand.)

Roman: God bless Carrie Bradshaw!

(What? Lots of guys tuned into Sex in the City looking for boobs!)

Bartender: Shame you didn’t order that 20 minutes ago. That pro wrestler, Centurion? He was here buying rounds for everyone.

(And of course he’d say that mid drink, so let’s just agree that it was his fault that I spit my Cosmopolitan all over him!)

Roman: Centurion was just here?

(The bartender nodded as Roman looked around the bar for any sign of him.)

Roman: Any idea where he went?

(The bartender just shrugged. He was obviously just looking for a payday, so Roman obliged and slapped a Benjamin on the bar.)

Bartender: I overheard them talking about adopting a cat. Maybe check a pet store or something?

(And he did. He checked every pet store in the area, but he never managed to find Centurion… “Oh well”, he thought. “Eventually we’ll work a show together or something. It’s just a matter of time before I meet dear old dad.)

------I guess this is where I talk about the match?------

What kind of horseshit is this!?!

“Oh hey kid, I know you’re new, and I know we skipped sending you to development, but here’s a highly decorated veteran for your first match, have fun!”

I get it, kinda… I made a big deal about going straight to the main roster. I’m the one who said I was ready. How can I fault management for wanting to put me to test? Maybe they booked this match because they have faith that I won’t make an ass out of myself?

Yeah, you’re going to have to forgive me if I don’t believe that.

This is obviously an attempt to humble me. I made a big deal about not wanting to work Anarchy, so I’m sure Lane told Atticus to bring my ego down a notch or two. Oh, and if having my first match against a proven championship athlete isn’t bad enough, she’s also a girl!

Yeah!

I know!!!

I think it’s fucked up too!

How is it 2019, and we are promoting violence between men and women?

I don’t know about everyone else, but I was raised to never hit a lady, and now I have to hit a lady or lose?

That’s lame… Vinnie Lame? Ha!

Fortunately Jessalyn looks like she has tons of experience getting bashed in the face, so maybe I won’t feel too bad for letting my poor mama down.

I hope you didn’t think that I would just lay down because you’re a girl?

Ha!

That’s your job!

Listen up my man, this is how it’s going to go down.

I’m going to come down to that ring, slap a few hands, make some people night. Then I’m going to climb into that ring and give them the most exciting Jessalyn Hart match they’ve ever seen. Do you know how I can be so confident in saying that, ya know, being that I’m just a dumb rook, and you’re a well established former champion?

Because I have greatness embedded into my DNA, and judging by what I’ve seen of you, everything in your DNA looks about as ugly as your face!

Ha!

F’real though, we’re like twins, not in the traditional sense, but more in the Arnold Schwartenegger, Danny DeVito way. Guess which one you are?

You know it’s true, just admit it. You’ve been wrestling for the XWF for how many years now? It’s been a few, right? Well as you know, you’re my very first opponent. That means that without ever once stepping into the ring, I’ve already managed to generate more interest than you ever have in your career, and that includes your tag team days back when you almost fooled somebody into thinking you weren’t the most average average to have ever averaged.

What makes you special? What is it that should strike fear in my heart? What about you or anything that you’ve ever done should even for a moment make me think that you could possibly beat me?

I’d stop here and say that I’d wait, but come on, you know you’ve got nothin’.

Like I said, I have this business in my blood. When I was training, I took to everything fast. I’m a quick learner, and even quicker to size up an opponent and switch strategies. I know from watching a handful of your matches that you go into every fight with the same game plan, the same moves, the same average ability. I’m a Goddamned prodigy, you just don’t know it yet, but you will.

If this is a test by management, consider it aced. If this is Lane serving up a piece of humble pie, fuck you, I won’t be humbled, not for a Jessalyn Hart anyway. Put me in the ring with someone who's actually half decent like Peter Gilmour or Ned Kaye and maybe I’ll rattle at the knees for you, but not for this bitch!

Oh, and that reminds me. What’s the deal with booking me in a 8 Minutes of Hanukkah Deathmatch?

Is that even legal!?!

(Roman pulls out his contact for this match.)

Roman: Okay, lets see… No DQ… All weapons and holds are legal. Okay… Weapons and holds are legal… Um… Fire, barbwire, weapons, and dreidels? Fire, barbwire, weapons, and dreidels what?

What!?!

Are they saying that we can use fire and all of that other shit as weapons?

That CAN’T be legal!

I’m contacting the state athletic commision to make sure I can’t be held accountable for anything that happens in this match!

(And with that the promo abruptly ended as Roman walked off set bitching to himself about the use of weapons in his match.)

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