Packing for Vancouver

Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Sat, Apr21, 2018 10:10pm America/Phoenix
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Packing for Vancouver
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***TSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH***

*The image of static covers the screen before fading into a close-up shot of the face plate of the WWX World Wrestling Championship.  The championship's golden finish shines in a light coming from directly above and has clearly been recently polished, given the camera's visible reflection.*

???: The World Wrestling Championship.

*The camera zooms out slightly, revealing that the title has been propped up on a familiar-looking tan couch.*

???: Previously held by such legends as The Lost Soul...Rick Dreamie...Xander Adams...and countless other Hall-of-Famers.  And, of course...a man from LA that nobody ever takes seriously around here.

*A hand reaches down from above and grabs the championship by the strap.  At this, the camera pans to reveal the hand as Syndicate's, the current World Wrestling Champion.  Standing inside his small Los Angeles apartment, Syndicate is wearing a coral tank top, blue jeans, and white socks.  On the couch next to where the World title once sat, a black suitcase, which appears to be about half-full, is open.  Syndicate puts the championship title onto his left shoulder and smiles at the camera.*

Syndicate: You know who's not on that list?  Jake Devine.  Why?  Because I've single-handedly kept him off of it.  Look back throughout our various encounters over the years.  Remember when he was a full-time DJ and spelled his name with a |BLEEP|ing hashtag?  What about when he was the least significant member of Big Time Agency?  And who could forget when he changed his name, told everyone he was more serious than ever, and received an honest-to-goodness title shot?  I do.  I remember all of those times.  And each |BLEEP|ing time...I've taken Jake Devine down.

*He chuckles to himself.*

Syndicate: Every time I come into contact with Jake, he tells the world that he's changed.  He will shout to the heavens that he's "evolved" and that he's "stronger" than before.  But I know the truth.  I know what's really going on.  When it comes to Jake Devine...nothing ever changes.  He's just the same stuck-up, cocky, ungrateful, undeserving piece of shit that he was when he first came to the WWX.  But NOW, in 2018...Jake has "changed" again.  Apparently, he has "fallen" from grace, if that's the true word for it.  He wants to paint me as the man who's ruined his career thus far and "stolen" his opportunity for the World title that he earned by winning the Crusade Cup.  He wants to paint me as the "bad guy" in this scenario.

*Syndicate runs his right hand through his hair with a slight smirk on his face.*

Syndicate: You wanna know what really happened, Jake?  I walked into work, did my job, and got rewarded for it.  After losing the World title at Holiday Hell and losing to you at Aftershock while wrestling on one |BLEEP|ing leg, I was back at the bottom for the first time in a long time.  But I wasn't about to give up and go home like you seem to do quite often.  I got back up, dusted myself off, and came back the next day stronger than ever before.  I won the tag titles with Darkness.  I received a championship rematch with Tommy Lipton, and even with your best efforts to disrupt it, I was able to capture gold for the sixth time in my career.  And now, here you are, trying to call ME the spotlight stealer?  Jake, don't you see?  This spotlight was on me the whole |BLEEP|ing time!

Syndicate: If you want to be taken seriously around here, then you need to show that you DESERVE to be taken seriously!  Time after time, you come to work feeling like you're on top of the world, but every |BLEEP|ing time you get ANY sort of real opportunity, you either fail or get things handed to you like candy out of the back of a white van.  BTA?  You had the chance to really make a name for yourself, but instead, you hitched your wagon to the wrong man in Tommy Lipton and fell back into obscurity.  Last summer?  Try as you might, you just couldn't beat me one-on-one.  Hell, even the damn Crusade Cup, you arguably won because you went up against a man that wasn't cleared to wrestle!  But THEN, you get all pissed off when someone else gets even slightly in the way of you POSSIBLY winning the World title in a timely fashion.

*Syndicate moves over to the other side of the suitcase and sits down facing the camera with a clear passion in his eyes.*

Syndicate: You know what the real problem here is, Jake?  You're jealous.  You're jealous of what I've accomplished in this company, and you're jealous of the attention that I've received.  Wanna know what that success comes from, though?  Hard work.  Determination.  Not giving up when times get tough, something that you DEFINITELY don't know a damn about.  But I'M the bad guy, right?  I'm the dick for winning matches, winning titles, and putting myself in main event after main event?  Yeah, |BLEEP| me for advancing my career and living my dream, right?

*He starts to openly laugh, mocking Jake Devine's new attitude

Syndicate: Here's the thing, Jake.  If you want to take me down, fine.  Do it.  Put your best foot forward at Armada and do what you've always said you've wanted to do.  If history is any indication - and when it comes to the WWX, it most certainly is - then you're still going to fail.  You've had opportunities in the past, and you've squandered ALL OF them.  Now, you're going up against two of the best to ever do it at Armada...and if you can't even take me one-on-one, then you're most certainly not going to be able to beat both of us in a triple-threat scenario.  Throughout your career, Jake, you've been nothing more than a flash in the pan.  All you are is a shell of what COULD be a promising wrestler.  Instead...you hide behind your faults, you take the easy road through EVERYTHING, and you get bitter when there's even a CHANCE that someone could possibly be considered better than you.  This is the REAL WORLD, Jake, and in this world, it's ME, SYDNEY |BLEEP|ING IRVINE, that's on top.

*Taking a moment to calm down, Syndicate reaches to his left and grabs a glass of water off a coffee table.   After taking a sip, he sets the cup back down and begins to speak once more.*

Syndicate: Moving on from the biggest phony in professional wrestling today...Tommy Lipton.  Tommy, let me talk to you directly for a moment here.  I understand that you're making your homecoming to Canada at Armada.  I understand that this could very well be your last match.  I understand that, after next weekend, we may never see you again.  And with that in mind, I say this...it will be an honor to retire you in front of your biggest fans.

*He smirks once again.*

Syndicate: It's no secret that I don't like you.  Hell, over the past few months - nay, YEARS - I've made it my mission to destroy you as much as I possibly could.  I've attacked you, I've ambushed you, and I've even taken your prized World Championship from you.  And why?  Why have I done what I've done to derail your career?  Because everyone considers you "the best".  Hell, you're even called "Mr. WWX" because of your work decades ago.  You're a legend in every sense of the word.  The only problem here...is that I want to be where you stand.  I want to be at the top of the professional wrestling mountain, looking down on everyone else.  I want to be "Mr. WWX".  And the only way to be that...is to take you down, once and for all.

Syndicate: It's been mentioned before that you're a poisonous mother|BLEEP|er that's been killing this company for years.  It's been observed that you aren't the same dominant person you used to be.  It's been said that you're just not good enough anymore, especially in today's WWX.  I agree with all of those statements, as you might expect.  Look at the history, Tommy.  You've NEVER beaten me.  You've never gotten your hand raised when I was in the other corner.  For five damn years and from day |BLEEP|ing one, I've had your number, and throughout all of our encounters, you've NEVER been able to figure me out.  Even at Armada, with all the personal stakes in the world for you...that won't change.  I still know just how to systematically break you down.  I still know what it takes to pin your shoulder to the mat for a three-count.  I know what I have to do to beat "Mr. WWX" himself.

*Standing back up, Syndicate pats the center plate of the World title, which is still resting on his shoulder.*

Syndicate: So give it your best shot, boys.  Do whatever it is you do that occasionally gets you wins.  But there's a reason I've been at the top of this industry for so long.  There's a reason why I'm able to earn opportunities.  There's a reason why I'm going to be in the Hall of Fame one day.  There's a reason...why this beautiful championship is constantly found resting on my shoulder.  I am Sydney Maxwell Irvine, I am the World Wrestling Champion, and I am the best professional wrestler in the world today.  I already know, when the dust settles at Armada, that it's gonna be my hand raised by the referee.  It's about time that you two realize that.  I'll see you in Vancouver.  Until then...

*Syndicate takes the World title off his shoulder and puts it in the suitcase next to him.  After shutting it and zipping it up, he turns back to the camera.*

Syndicate: ...welcome to the Syndicate.

*Chuckling once more, Syndicate takes the suitcase off of the couch and moves it towards the door.  As he does, the shot is consumed by static.*

***TSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH***

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