Destiny is often wild and unforeseen. Fate is thought of as a mythical X Factor by a lot of people. Perhaps it is. No man wants to be told that they’re not in full control of their own life but sometimes, perhaps, it’s true. What if there are forces out there that actually govern our every movement? What if it has already been decided who the next President will be or, to come closer to home, who will by the next Television Champion of the HWF?
Holiday Hangover is almost upon us. It lurks around the corner. The fans have already bought their tickets and told their best friends about how excited they are to be watching a live HWF event finally. What of the wrestlers themselves? What are they going through? Different emotions undoubtedly. However, what is undisputable is the fact once they walk out into the arena at Hangover, goose bumps and nerves will hit them. They’ll feel the tension and they’ll believe that destiny is there for the taking.
In the case of The Educator, he’s never been more ready for a debut. His outward, confident and unrelenting assaults on fellow superstars don’t fully reveal the true story of his anxiety. He wants this match badly. This is his debut and a test of character.
Fact.
[The camera fades in as we’re shown several shots of the Television Title. Karma appears. The words “Who wants it the most?” flash across the screen as the picture changes to an image of Jackson Blaze being smashed over the head with a chair last Sunday at Suicide. One by one the wrestlers that are set to go at it in the battle royal at Hangover are presented on the screen.
It appears that Mr Miller has a few misconceptions about not only wrestling but the essence of his being. You see, Travis, you seem to think that you’re the be all and end all of this industry. You think that the globe spins because you’re there to watch it do so. You think perhaps that this battle royal match was made to showcase your dramatic rise to fame.
I’m sorry to burst your bubble but it isn’t happening.
Wrestling just like life is all about choices. I’ve got a choice to make at hangover. The choice I’ve got to make involves me contemplating whether or not to end your career. My other alternative would be to beat you senseless and prolong the pain over a series of matches that would, again, ultimately lead in your resignation from this Company. Does it matter then? Not to you perhaps. All you need to understand is that I’m going to leave you a broken man. Time doesn’t apply to you.
Time.
Why has everyone got so little of it? Why are we condemned to telling the world we’ve got no time when in fact – we have all of the time? My career here has only just begun. I’ve got time to achieve my goals. I’ve got time to win my matches. More importantly, I’ve got time to have fun crippling people. This isn’t some game though that I do just because I like hurting people. It’s much more than that, Travis. I’m in this business because I’m motivated by gold. It must be something rooted in the smell of the stuff – I don’t know. There is something about wearing a shiny piece of gold that makes the blood flow just that little bit quicker. Yes, I want to injure you Travis, as sadistic as it sounds, but my real goal lies beyond you and certainly beyond Jackson Blaze. Are you beginning to understand me now? It doesn’t matter. You’re of no real consequence.
This match is unquestionably a stepping stone to greater things. One by one, we’re going to assemble in that ring and look into each other’s eyes. I want you to know that when you look into my eyes, Travis, you’re going to see nothing but a dark abyss of hatred. Do I hate you? Not specifically. I just hate in general. I hate the way that sub par athletes continually are pushed to the top of the tree. I hate the way in which I’m going to have to destroy everyone in this match just to prove my worth. I know what I’m worth and it’s a damn sight more than the Television Title.
I’m making it sound as if I’m ungrateful for a shot at the TV Title. Maybe I am. I’ll ask that question of myself some other time. Like I said though, it’s the gold that motivates me. The bigger the prize is – the bigger the man. I’m a giant amongst men and that’s why I want to be at the top of the ladder where I belong. I want to raise the HWF World Title above my head and stare down at a wreckage of bodies. Bodies that I’ve mutilated with my own two hands. Can’t you see how worked up I am becoming for this match? The oxygen in my blood is wearing thin. I feel as if I could faint at any moment but then again I could also explode with rage at the same too. Which is it going to be? Choke or rise above it? I won’t allow myself to choke. Not now, not here and certainly not against people like you.
People like you, Travis, do nothing for this company. You’re simply here to make up the numbers. You’re here for guys like me to use. Doesn’t that scare you? You’ve entered into a contract that’s insured with your own ass. What happens when the deal falls through though? When you fail? You lose the lot. Everything. You’re not good enough to be considered a superstar here, Mr Miller. Superstar? What’s so super about Travis Miller? You’re bland. You’re average. You’re the next guy. I could stand here all day long and explain to you why you’ll never be a SUPERstar but then I think you already understand. There is some doubt in your mind, isn’t there? I can feel it. That’s why you’re telling everyone that you’re not the favourite. You tell them so that the weight of expectation is passed onto guys like me. Underdogs don’t win. It’s the stuff of fairytales.
You’ve not got long though now. That’s the strangest thing about it. I’m already telling you how your future is going to plan out. Maybe I’m an oracle or some sort. Maybe I’m psychic. Maybe I’ve just got enough confidence is my own ability to say that I’m going to get the job done and watch you wriggle about in a damn near crippled state on a stretcher. Look inside yourself. That’s right. Look to yourself. You know the truth. That’s why you’re frightened. Defeat is inevitable.
Inevitability is a funny thing though. It’s inevitable that you’re going to grab a microphone and once again tell the people of this country that I’m wrong. You’re going to do the exact thing you do everyday, Travis. That’s why you’re bland. There’s no sense of originality. It’s nothing I couldn’t see in any other run-of-the-mill wrestling Company. That’s why I’m almost hurt that the likes of you and Jackson Blaze are going up against me in this match. The HWF is supposed to be the place where legends are made. The HWF is supposed to represent the best of the best. That’s what I was told when I signed my contract. You’re a contradiction to the terms of my contract. I can’t accept that. I shouldn’t have to accept that.
It’s obvious, Travis, that you think you deserve your title shot against Karma. Let’s talk about what the word “deserve” for a moment.
If you “deserve” something then you’re automatically implying that you actually “done” something. You can’t “deserve” something for doing absolutely nothing at all or, more to the point, failing. That’s all you’ve done. You failed. You failed to win your debut match at Suicide. Why exactly do you “deserve” to climb the ladder? What’s more, you’ve then blamed the establishment for your embarrassment last week. You make your own luck, Miller. You were the one who made those decisions. If you’d finished your man off sooner than you’d have “earned” your shot. You didn’t though. You failed, Travis Miller. “The Failure” Travis Miller.
You’re a loser, Travis. That’s what I’ve been building up to say. I’ve skated around the truth because I wanted you to understand it for yourself. You’re too blind to see it though. You’re brainwashed by thoughts of a HWF conspiracy or by the fact that I’m only telling you this to psyche you out. I am trying to psyche you out Travis but only with the truth that you simply will not allow your eyes to see. I’m the eye opener, Mr Miller. I’m the guy that’s here to bring the facts to your attention even if you don’t particularly like them.
You will lose at Hangover. Fact.
You will feel pain like never before. Fact.
I will become the number one contender for the TV Title. Fact.
That’s what life is all about. Facts. Truth. If you’re going to hide from these things – is there any point you existing? Yes. You’re here for me to exercise my control over. You’re here as my play thing. I’ll bet that excites you, doesn’t it Travis? The Educator’s play thing? Don’t get too excited because I mean it in a whole different way. I can pick your body up and do whatever I want to it. That’s why you’re my play thing. You’re my bitch. Am I being a bit too graphic for you? I don’t care. You need to know the truth and here I am. Fact.
I don’t know why I’m focusing so much on you though, Travis. Maybe it’s because I feel you need to know the facts more than anyone else in this match. I’ve made my point though. Now, you need to deal with it.
What of the rest of the athletes in this match? What of the mysterious Black Owlion? Here is a guy that strikes me as a reincarnation of Batman. Here is a guy that wants to run around pretending he’s a bit spooky. That’s great. Well, not great but I can live with it. I want to know what you’ve got up your sleeve though. What are you bringing to this battle field? If all you’ve got is a utility belt and a cape then I’m afraid you’re royally screwed.
I’m the real hero here. I’m the one that’s going to be casting my own bat signal. Enough talk about fictional characters though. I’m one hundred percent real and that’s why I’m going to prevail.
You see, while you’ve been rambling around in your little cave, Chris Champion has been living in the real world. This may come as a surprise to you but there is more to this Earth than your little lair. There are trees, birds, lakes, rivers and oceans. Then, of course, there is what we, the human beings, of this world have made. Now, I’m not really one for nature. Therefore, that should tell you that although I couldn’t give a toss about the birds and the bees – I care about the human aspect of life on this Earth. I care about how I can manipulate those very same humans in order to survive. I care about how I can guarantee my own survival. I’m into Charles Darwin. I subscribe to his theories. All you need to know that is that the only real predator in this match…the King of the Jungle as it were…is The Educator. Me.
I’m the guy you’re going to have to topple. Daunting, isn’t it?
Unlike Travis Miller, I’m the new star with the moves to back up his mouth. So, Black Owlion, as a gift from me to you, after the match, I’ll mosey on down to your little cave and shove a big fat lantern up your ass. Maybe then you’ll see the light.
[The Educator reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He reads the writing on it, chuckles and then continues]
Ah yes. Chris Newton! How could I forget you? You’re the guy that called me “impressive”. Well, you too must certainly be a little psychic! However, I’m far better than impressive. No psychic intuition can prepare you for Hangover. That’s also a fact.
I’m going to be fair to Newton though. He obviously works very hard in the gym. But, I’d spend more time in the gym if I endured a beating like you got at Suicide! I think anyone would do the same! The truth is despite your hard work, you’ve simply not got the talent to beat me. I was born to wrestle. I was born with a gift that most men can only dream about, but that’s besides the point…I’m also a damn good wrestler. I can take you apart piece by piece, limb by limb or even word by word. It’s just one of the mainly strengths that I possess.
This match is about six boys and one bastard. I’m the original bastard. I don’t have to grunt a lot and pretend I’m some sort of caged beast to prove that. Jackson Blaze, on the other hand, thinks he is scaring people by making himself out to be some kind of animal. It just doesn’t add up. Surely such a raw and calculated killer would have been able to take a chair shot like the one he received last week? But no! Blaze hit the deck. Blaze was left motionless. That’s why we’re different, Jackson. I’ll get up time and time again because I’m so determined to come out on top that even metal won’t stop me. That’s the mark of a true bastard. That’s the mark of a true beast. Now, when you’re quite finished trying to be something you’re not – you can waltz on down to the ring at Hangover and try and compete with me. However, I do stress that the key word IS “try”.
Have I made my point yet? Is the HWF ready for me? Are these 6 other guys ready? I don’t give two shits. I’m here and I know I’m ready. Holiday Hangover will witness the birth of a legacy. An educated legacy.
And that’s a fact.
[The scene draws to a close as we’re left with the image of the Television Title and a large question mark fading in over the top of it. The camera fades to black]