Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Mon, Jun05, 2017 7:01pm America/Phoenix
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*static ripples across the screen as the skyline of New Orleans, Louisiana fades into view.  The camera, which is situated inside a New Orleans hotel room, is pointed outside the window, with the window frame and the white A/C unit visible below.  Slowly, the camera pans to the left, where Syndicate is revealed laying on the hotel bed, looking down at his LG G4 smartphone.  Syndicate is dressed only in black sweatpants and is not wearing a shirt or socks.  The World Championship belt is situated on the nightstand to his right.  Once the camera is fully pointed on him, Syndicate looks up from his phone.*

Syndicate: You ever feel like your life is on repeat?  As if you're doing the same old shit, over and over?  I have.  In fact, I'm feeling that right now.

*Syndicate sets his phone down next to the World title.*

Syndicate: Almost four months ago to the day, I walked into the Mercedes-Benz Superdome as the Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion to face Kurtis Ray in a one-on-one match.  I lost that match, and for a brief moment, I was not considered the best wrestler in the world anymore.  To be quite honest, this city played host to one of the lowest points of my four-year career in the WWX.

*He chuckles.*

Syndicate: So why don't we just do the same damn thing again?  Let's have Syndicate versus Kurtis Ray for the Undisputed World title in New Orleans?  Seems perfectly fine to me.

*The Los Angeles Outlaw sits up and leans over the side of his bed, facing the camera.*

Syndicate: This coincidence is likely just what Kurtis Ray was going to talk about if he got the chance to speak first.  Knowing the jackass, he would probably say something like, "Syndicate doesn't stand a chance because I've beaten him before!" or some shit like that.  To be honest, I don't care.  In fact, I'll just issue my retort to that theoretical insult and get it out of the way now.

Syndicate: Kurtis, I think we've both proven at this point that history doesn't matter.  At Aftershock, after spending all my time bragging about my past accomplishments, you took me to school and stole the World title.  Last month at Deadlock, you talked about how you had my number and that Aftershock's result would happen again...then you lost the title after getting your neck slammed into a pile of chairs.  The history doesn't matter, Kurtis.  The backstory is irrelevant.  What does matter is who's better right now...and I think we already have the answer to that question.

*Syndicate smiles and taps the faceplate of the World title belt.*

Syndicate: Outrage will be the rubber match, the conclusion to the Syndicate-Kurtis Ray trilogy...and I guarantee that this trilogy will have a happy ending.  The WWX, whether Kurtis wants to admit it or not, belongs to the Los Angeles Outlaw, as it has been for the past four years.  Kurtis can talk about being mentally, physically, or emotionally superior, and he can talk shit like that all day...but to be perfectly honest, how far has that gotten anyone?  If any of that mattered in professional wrestling, wouldn't I have lost to Tommy Lipton and Rex McAllister last week?  Wouldn't you and Cameron Westport have beaten LX and I on Mayhem?  Wouldn't you, Kurtis Ray, have retained the World title at Deadlock?

*Syndicate shakes his head.*

Syndicate: What a joke you are.  All you have done over the past month, instead of making yourself better, is throw away your legion of supporters.  You've lost every shred of respect anyone has ever given you.  You've behaved like a loser when you've had the most to prove.  You've walked away from your partners.  To be perfectly honest, you've done everything wrong.  And're somehow better than Sydney Maxwell Irvine?  You weren't good enough back at Deadlock.  Why the hell would you be good enough now?

*He pauses as if remembering something.*

Syndicate: Sorry...the history doesn't matter.  Forgot about that for a sec.  The point, Kurtis, is this: this Monday, inside the Superdome, those fans are going to see a sad, broken-down man try in vain to recapture his former glory.  The one-hit wonder known as Kurtis Ray is about to sing his last song, and I for one cannot wait.

*Syndicate lays back down on the bed, smiling once again.*

Syndicate: Kurtis, you have been nothing but a nuisance over the past four months, and quite frankly, I just want to shut you up.  All I'm trying to do is lead the WWX through another golden age, and all you're doing is distracting me from my greatness.  I get it; even the best of them get jealous of others, as you clearly are.  But even then, you're not just a nuisance.  You're scared, and I can see it.  Instead of facing me and LX, you walked away from Cameron Westport and allowed him to take the beating.  You don't speak directly to my face anymore; instead, you rely on sneak attacks and thoughtless internet videos to push your agenda.  Those are the marks of a coward, and cowards never win.  

Syndicate: I'm going to expose you for the fraud that you truly are, Kurtis.  I'm going to send you straight to the mat with the No Signal, I'm going to retain my World title, and I'm going to push your ass right to the back of the line.  The WWX belongs to me, Kurtis; it's time you start paying property taxes.  Welcome to the Syndicate.

*Syndicate gets up from his bed and walks over to the camera.  He picks the camera up, grins into the lens, and reaches behind to flip a switch.  The feed is immediately turned into static.


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