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Imperial · (05-17-2017)

Three Years Ago

That’d been it. A year after the separation, unable to stand it any longer, she’d given up. She was found by Jackson when he went in to give her lunch, as he did daily. Hanging from the ceiling fan by the tattered remains of her husbands tie, she was no longer with us. Danny had walked in on Jackson taking the body down and trying to resuscitate her. He didn’t know how to react, he just stared blankly, that feeling of numb nothingness had washed over him. He felt like he was watching a movie as he stepped forward gingerly and started to speak to her.

“Mother.”

“Mother, get up.”

“Mother.”

“Mother, WAKE UP.”

The funeral was a closed event, with Danny, and a few close family friends that had stuck with them since the separation. All the house staff, including Jackson were also there. They’d never cared much for Mrs Bharat, but for young Danny, he was the child they’d all brought up. Watching him crumble from the loss of his mother, especially in the way that she chose to leave him, brought tears to all of them. None of them approached him however, for a seething anger had overtaken him. His father hadn’t showed up.

He glared down at the casket as they lowered it into it’s grave. He refused to lift his eyes from her body, knowing full well that everyone else there was looking at him, though they tried not to be too obvious. How dare he not show up. Danny muffled a cry of anguish as he stood there, with Jackson’s hand resting on his shoulder.

Jackson stood tall, hat in his hands, as he felt Danny shaking under his hand. He gave Danny, now his ward, a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Danny seemed not to react to it at all. His family was gone, completely gone. Two had left him a year ago, the other left him just last week. Both of his parents had left him intentionally, consciously, why?!

Jackson’s phone rung just then. It was set to silent so it vibrated gently in his inner breast pocket. He screwed up his face, trying to count off the number of people that had access to that phone number. His eyes shot open wide as he quickly took out the phone and checked the number.

“Employer is calling”

He quickly picks up the call, raising it to his ear. He grunts in affirmation and hands the phone to Danny, who takes it with a confused look on his face. Raising it to his ear.

“Yes, Danny speaking. Who is this?”

“Hello brother, it’s been awhile.”

Danny almost dropped the phone.

Present Day

Danny pushes off the treadmill with his feet, bounding in the air and panting heavily. His body dripped with sweat as he sprinted along the conveyer belt attached to the machine. He had his iPod plugged in, with the latest Kendrick album blaring into his ears. His face warped into a grimace as he could feel his body reaching it’s limit. He hit the up arrow a few times, increasing the speed and pushing his body to it’s very edge.

Jackson stood to his side with a clipboard in his hands. Sensors attached to Danny’s body were showing his vitals along a screen and his run statistics along another. He nodded approvingly, but keeping his eyes glued to the screens. As Danny continued to push his limits, Jackson was determined to make sure he didn’t go too far.

“Okay, that’s good. Slow it down and cool down, you’re done for the day.”

“The fight’s tomorrow, I have to push.”

“Don’t be daft, you’ve trained enough, go entertain one of your girls.”

Danny chuckles at the thought, hitting the cool down button on the treadmill, it slows down gradually till it comes to a stop in a few minutes. Danny hops off the machine, grabbing his water bottle in one hand and his towel in the other. Wiping down his sweat whilst filling his body with some much needed electrolytes, Danny walks towards his stretching area. A flat screen TV is placed in the room. Jackson checks his phone and chuckles at the notification that Main had released yet another promotional video.

“He’s got another one, Dan.”

“Another STD?”

“It’s not funny, your numbers directly affect how your bosses are going to review your contract, you’ll just have to keep up.”

“Sigh, let it play whilst I stretch then.”

Jackson hit the play button on his phone and he broadcasts the playing video onto the flat screen in the room. Danny settles down onto the floor and continues to stretch his body. He aches all over, but in the most satisfying way. As Main’s voice fills the room, he groans audibly and cracks his neck to the side. The promo plays through as Danny works on his stretches.

“Bloody hell, this boy can ramble, can’t he?”

“Probably has some ghost writer somewhere with his generic shit.”

“Look at you, joining in on the shittalk.”

“Well, I’m a little sick of watching these too, to be fair.”

“Hah, imagine he was actually paying someone to help him write this repetitive shit though.”

“Well, spending so much on his watch and clothes must dampen his other endeavors I guess.”

Main finally finishes speaking, and Danny nods to Jackson to get his phone out, once more.

“Lord, it feels like we’ve been doing this for ages. You really couldn’t give it a rest even after you’re clearly ahead huh? Sure I’m the one that’s been trying to get our GM’s hard? Main, oh my friend, Main. I’ll appreciate to hear your thoughts after reading my latest piece, It had a little less of those flashy pictures and frills, as will this one. I mean, I’m busy prepping for this match, I don’t quite have the time to sit in front of a computer and properly edit this. Not that I’ll need to, to beat you in merchandise sales. You give just about everyone a bad taste in their mouths, I don’t see why anyone would want to wear something with your face on it.

Sorry, what’re you talking about? Your quotes? I’m sorry Jackson decided to record me whilst your promo was playing. I just thought it was so full of trash that I had to dissect it at every line. It wasn’t intentional, were you paying attention? The camera just caught you spewing your usual garbage, and I just paused it between lines to give some play-by-play commentary. I have no clue what you mean by captions, novice? And I’m a little confused as to why you ended that chunk of speech with a demand for me to come on you, I thought about how else you might’ve meant it… But I really couldn’t come up with anything. I mean, if you realllllyyy want me to, I guess I could after the match. I wouldn’t really want to touch you after you’d taken a good shot from my soldier here. I’ll be taking that Hart Championship first though, maybe my spray of seed could be like a consolation prize. I’ve heard I taste pretty good, I keep a decent food plan to keep it yummy.

Did you get scared by my surgical dissection of your work and insults? Did I really embarrass you too much that you can no longer come up with anything substantial to say? You’re just going to throw insults at the quality of my promo in general? I can dig that. I don’t think it’ll earn you much in ratings or favour but… If that’s why you need to keep producing some network clogging work, go ahead. I applaud your efforts.

You see, I don’t understand where you get the idea that I’m trying to entertain the management. I definitely aim to entertain the fans, I mean, they pay me. And I just happen to entertain the management by bringing in the big bucks when it comes to merchandise. I don’t ever refer to them, or talk to them directly, so unless you know something that I don’t… This is just more superfluous falsehoods. I acknowledge your ability in the ring, I don’t believe you could be where you are right now without some form of talent, I’ll accept it. Perhaps I’ve yet to rub shoulders with the greatest in the ring, but I’d definitely like to think Mystica was at least one of them. You may, or you may not be on that list of greatests some time… But I could say the same thing. I mean little jimmy sitting at home watching this can say he’ll be on the list of greatest XWF wrestlers of all time too, that means absolutely nothing until you get there, champ.

Unfortunately, I have garnered a few more losses than I’d appreciate. It has been a nagging pain in my side that you’ve graciously exploited. What’s a wonder is that after my first loss, they loved my work so much I got put in a match with him again to beat him. After my second loss, I’m scheduled to face another champion to take his title off him. I may have losses, but I’m definitely not shy of opportunities, babe. They love me, the management, the fans, the random woman down the street. They all adore me.

Drake and The Revival garnered interest? Where you getting this from? Just because they faced you?

realized her titles were useless and set a date for them to be defended. Unfortunately leading up to that only two teams had any say. You and them. They only got that spot out of inability to find other talent, that’s honestly nothing to be proud of. I’m disappointed you took the risk of even mentioning that. I think it’s beyond argument that they were nobodies and that beating them was irrelevant to furthering the reputation of those titles or you as a wrestler.

I was just pointing out that I had beaten ex-universal champions. Now if you go to watch my latest work, you’ll realize that I already compared you to him. Another champion who sits on his ass and defends his titles to the bare minimum. So, I don’t have much respect for him as a wrestler, like I don’t for you. Sure you can do the bare minimum and fight as long as you’re holding these titles. Once I take them off you and you’re no longer a necessary part of this roster, I’d sure like to see you pull your once a month fights and still remain on the XWF payroll. Let me watch YOU slip off into obscurity because people forget how your entrance theme even sounds like.

I fight on every card because I’m new. Because I like to fight, and because I need to fight to make my presence known. You’re right. That’s kind of what people do when they come fresh into an organization. People want to see them, they want to see what they’re made of and I’ll gladly show them what I’m made of. The fans still cheer when I come out, they still squeal when I smile and they still swoon when I wink. So why don’t you take your rambling mouth, cut the “two-half worked pieces of shit” insults about my promos and stuff it up where the Sun don’t shine. As we all know from watching the news this past year, just saying something is bad, or sad or a lie… Doesn’t quite make it so. The truth is unfortunately objective, and what happened is unfortunately factual and doesn’t ride on your just yelling loudly or more frequently. You can try to say it repeatedly until maybe someone believes you. Anyone with any sense knows that my work is quality, and there’s no doubt to that.

I don’t really care about how you dress really, I quite like being naked if I can help it. I don’t see why you think I might make fun of you for it, if you want to walk about dressed like a biker, go ahead. You could show up to the ring dressed like a fairy princess and I wouldn’t give two shits. Why do you try to assume what I’m going to say about you when it’s based on nothing I’ve said in the past? Have I ever made fun of someone’s clothes? That’s such a superficial shot to take at somebody, and when it comes to somebody like you that gives me so much material to take a dump on, I really don’t need to make fun of something so basic.

I paint myself to assume a character. I paint myself to momentarily forget who I am outside the ring. You see, I’m quite a nice a guy. I like people, I try not to hurt things and I just want to have fun. When I put this paint on my face and get into the ring however, I change. I become an animal, I become a warrior, I become a destroyer who cares absolutely nothing about how his opponent feels. I only care about the art of the hunt and the flair with which I destroy the person I face in the ring. So if that makes me look like a bitch, I guess I need to work on my artistry a little. It doesn’t matter how I look though, it really matters how I feel. And when I put this paint on, the hunger to feast on the flesh of my opponents is overwhelming. So you can be sure that when I paint my face and step into that ring with you on Wednesday, I’m going to rip your flesh off your bone and show you what it truly means to be The King of The Jungle.”

The screen abruptly flickers off with Danny’s face into a devilish grin.

OOC: I've faced some horrible internet issues, I apologise for not filling this up with my usual fluff and music :) Enjoy though!

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