A calm angel
On Sat, Sep23, 2017 10:19pm America/Phoenix
A calm angel
The scene opens just outside the 3 Arena in Dublin, at night. The gates are open, and fans are flocking into the venue. A WWX banner is on display, showcasing various WWX stars that will be taking part in the World Series match. The camera shifts inside, to a marked door. Jake Devine. The door opens, and the camera steps inside. A table with lots of Gatorade products and energy bars occupies the left side of the room. To the right side, a television screen with a sofa. And on the center, sitting on a yoga mat, Jake Devine meditating. He briefly opens his left eye, and quickly closes it again. Jake: Right now we are exactly 2 hours away from World Series. This is one of the biggest pay-per-view events of the year. Everyone must be feeling tense. Not me. I already got this on the bag. So, here I am, meditating and planning out how the match will play out. I like to go into my matches with a calm mind...unlike some nordic blockheads I know. Jake briefly flexes his muscles and grunts, before going back to a serious pose, still with his eyes closed. Jake: Ah, Korath. I see you are as intense as ever. And just as stupid. Here I am, keeping cool for World Series, and you are doing just the opposite. You pride yourself in your stupid rage and screaming on top of your lungs, and I can't help but cringe. Anger gives motivation without purpose. You think that makes you hit harder, but nah. Just like Blazey and his tunnel vision, you stand no chance against more focused opponents like myself. You'll just tire yourself through the International ring and become easy prey for me. If you even get out of your ring. They say a focused mind can pierce through stone. And you're the stone here. And in case that was too hard of a language for your meathead to process, let me repeat my thoughts in easier to understand speech just for you. Me Jake. You Korath. Korath big. Korath angry. Jake calm. Korath stupid. Jake smart. Smart Jake beat stupid Korath. Korath cry in corner. Jake opens his eyes and stands up. He stretches his arms and picks up a bottle of Gatorade, before sitting down on the yoga mat again, in a relaxed pose. Jake: Tommy Lipton appears to have misunderstood what I meant, as well. While I did say he would probably the most dangerous opponent...at no time did I say he would be a threat. You'll just be the one guy who will entertain me the most here. I'm still a step above you, right now, and a whole three steps above everyone else not named Syndicate. Or more. As we dance, I'll show you just that. And I'll be sure to make you, out of everyone else, stare at me as I stand on top of that ladder and the rest of the world. You'll be at the very bottom. And once that happens, just go back to the Tag Team division where you belong. At least that way you can still win championships off the back of your lame partner. Jake chugs down the bottle, and throws it perfectly into a garbage bin. He then takes his pose again and closes his eyes once more. However, before he can redume his meditation, his phone starts to ring. Jake sighs and stands up agaib, picking up the phone from the table. He stares at the screen for a brief second, before proclaiming: Jake: Leave. Jake points at the door and gives the camera a serious, stern look. The cameraman walks out, and Jake closes the door. Unintelligible words can be heard, and the camera fades to black, focusing on Jake's label on the door.