Acceptance

Subject: Acceptance Fri Apr 06, 2012 10:32 pm

John Smith sits on the ring barrier before the show. He looks into the ring, then to the stands. He rubs his hip, the same one destroyed by a hit-and-run driver all those years ago, and winces slightly. It doesn't hurt, the pain passed with the surgery that re-introduced him to the wrestling business. Whatever is hurting him is within his own mind. He looks to the empty seats, to the commentary table, to the gorilla position. He breathes it in, all the hurt and blood and determination that have left a stink in buildings, arenas like this. He exhales, and begins to speak.

William Black, I want to thank you. I want to thank Cole Scorpio. I want to thank Alex Kross. I want to thank everyone I had to beat, to destroy, to pummel to get to this point. I'd like to apologize, to my family. To the woman I loved for so long, the woman I let get away from me. The son I love more than anything else in the world. The son who doesn't matter, at this moment. The son who sits at home, not knowing why he never sees his father any more. The son who doesn't understand why the government took him away from me, why I needed to pay for the privilege of seeing him. None of that matters on this day, on this momentous day of my career. This is the day, the day where I finally win something. Something to prove I'm a man, something to prove I'm worthy of being called a professional wrestler. I've traveled this Earth, this godforsaken Earth for a long time, long enough for most people to tell me I should quit. Long enough to tell me I'd never win a championship, that my time for doing that had passed. I've been here long enough to see my bones broken, to see myself almost crippled. I've seen careers born, careers die. I've seen friends get driven out of wrestling, seen enemies become the biggest names on the planet. I've lived a long, hard life.

But I've never once won a title.

That's why I needed this match, why I was willing to throw everything away. My family. The name I've used since I entered this business. I don't give a damn what I walk into this match with, all that matters is what I walk away with. I can exit that ring with two broken legs, a face covered in blood, and my heart RIPPED OUTTA MY BODY, and I will still walk away with the extreme championship! I don't care if you end my career, if you paralyze me, if I die of my injuries! A dead man is gonna be champion, if that's what it takes for me to prove myself!

Decades as a wrestler, decades as a man of anger and violence, they've been leading to this. You, me, we're going to have the match to end all matches. We're going into that ring, two of the best in the history of professional wrestling. You are a man of incredible skill in the ring, and I am a man of incredible violence. But our skill, our ability, nobody cares about it. In this match, there will be blood. There will be weapons. There will be NO ESCAPE from my wrath William Black. Butler, wrestler, I don't care what you do in your free time. I don't care what holds you know, what throws you can accomplish on my admittedly larger than healthy frame. You don't care what the PSI of my punch is. You don't care just how strong I am. All that matters in a match like this, is what kind of weapon you can get your hands on. And I promise you, there will be MANY weapons.

Tears stream down Ultra... down John Smith's face. He walks up the steps and into the ring. The ropes have yet to be put up, and the mat is left uncovered. Ultra lays on his back, looking to the lights above. The engineers are testing the spotlights before the show can begin, switching between green and blue and red.

If I don't win the title tonight... I don't think I'm done. I'm not going to give up because of one loss. But I know, deep inside my heart, that I'll never be able to win a championship. I'll be dead inside, unable to try any more. I'll keep beating people up, still make the audience cheer, still be a name on the marquee. But I won't be the Destroyer. I won't be one of the greats. I'll just be a guy who came close to gold so many times, and never actually won it. I can't let that be the case William Black. I can't live a life as John Smith. I need to be the Destroyer, be the ultimate personification of violence in wrestling. That's why tonight, I'm going to win. I'm going to be the Destroyer, the end of the whole damn world.

William Black... I hope I see you at the apocalypse. I'll be waiting.

Ultra flips onto his stomach, and counts to three before standing. He walks down the steps, and to the gorilla position. He stands before the massive titantron, and looks at the stage. He turns, and faces the non-existent crowd. He crosses his hands in front of his stomach, signalling his desire for the title. He raises his fists into the air, and walks backstage. William Black sits in his dressing room, watching the events unfold on a small television screen. He sips his tea, and his brow wrinkles. He resumes getting into his gear, for the match that will occur tonight.