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| Respect; Lee Mason | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 1 2011, 07:41 PM (47 Views) | |
| Martyn | Nov 1 2011, 07:41 PM Post #1 |
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Wrestler
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The unfamiliar whirring of machinery hums through a dimly lit hallway. The brown carpet and off-white walls lead to the source of the machine-like noises. There is a room with a single door and two glass walls making a corner connection. Inside for your viewing pleasure is Lee Mason alone on a treadmill. Sweat is emanating from every pore in his body it would seem; pouring from his face and body soaking through the lightly coloured sleeveless sports top he is wearing. He has a look on his face that is a cross between pain and determination as he quickens the pace on the treadmill, bringing it up to a sprint. He continues in this manner for about a minute until with his body at the verge of its breaking point he hits the stop button and the treadmill slows to a halt. Mason doubles over and places his hands on his thighs as he tries to regain his breath. His lungs feeling as though they are filled with fire though the distant blow from above of an air vent provides some relief. What he doesn’t see is a gentleman standing outside the glass enclosure watching him. He waits until he is fairly sure he has relaxed and his breathing has returned to normal before rapping on the door awkwardly. Mason looks up quickly, somewhat startled, before placing a white towel over his neck and wiping his forehead with it. He smiles and waves to the man to come into the room as he rubs his open hands on his legs. The man, Toby Bostock, opens the door and begins to close it behind him. Mason waves his hand from side-to-side to gesture not to do it. Bostock acknowledges this and awkwardly drags a small grey chair besides Mason who is now seated on a bench next to the treadmill. Mason notices that Bostock has a small microphone in his other hand that he had not seen before. He smirks and shakes his head with an air of frustration before finally a word is spoken between the two individuals. LM: “I figured it was only a matter of time before someone hunted me down before my match with Darren Hayes. Though I must admit I didn’t expect the likes of you to find me here.” TB: “I’m going to assume that was a compliment to my work ethic. Out of interest, why didn’t you let me close the door behind me?” Mason points down at his shoes. LM: “If you don’t leave that door open after someone works out in here the room tends to adopt the smell of rotten socks – unfortunately the air conditioning isn’t quite up to scratch. It might have made my life easier but I thought I’d avoid the possibility of you passing out.” Mason grabs a bottle of water and downs about half of it. Bostock takes note of this fact and also his incredibly fatigued appearance. TB: “You look pretty beat, Lee. How long have you been in here?” Mason looks up at a clock on the far wall and starts counting in his head. LM: “Not long, maybe a few hours; just a little cardio conditioning.” TB: “For your Iron Man match against Darren Hayes this week?” Mason shrugs his shoulders. LM: “I always get a little cardio in, but I’ll admit that I’ve done a little extra this week given the match stipulation I’m faced with.” TB: “So you’re making some special preparations for your match? Are your nervous?” LM: “I’m not nervous, no. I always modify my training regime to fit with my opponent and with the type of match I’m in.” TB: “And this week you’ve got an Iron Man match so you’re testing your stamina?” Mason takes another sip from the bottle of water and looks slightly shocked as he gulps it down. LM: “Jesus Toby, maybe you’re not as stupid as you make yourself look. Yeah, I’ve been making sure my fitness is 100% for this match. To be honest, a fifteen minute Iron Man match is right up my alley – I’m used to fighting in three five minute rounds. Granted my fights don’t normally go on that long but this is exactly the length of fight that I’ve been training for since I was a boy at ZT.” TB: “So if anything you’re more confident going into this match than others?” LM: “You could say that; this kind of match is much closer to my forte – much more so than some crazy luchador trios match. I think I’ve proved my worth when it comes to a one-on-one match with some pretty impressive performances and victories in my time here.” Bostock nods in agreement as Mason pauses to drop the towel that was resting around his neck into his gym bag. LM: “Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not overconfident. Darren Hayes will be a tough prospect and the Fighting Spirit Championship is a heck of a prize to be fighting for – that’s what this tournament is all about.” TB: “That’s what you’re fighting for.” Mason makes a cutting motion with his right arm to stop Toby in his tracks. LM: “That’s not what I’m fighting for, Toby.” Toby looks confused, bless his cottons. TB: “Sure you are, like you said that’s the point of the tournament.” LM: “Maybe so, but I’m fighting for respect, and winning this Tournament is a means to an end in that sense. The way I see it, people don’t really respect me as a legitimate contender here in FIW. Sure, I’ve had title opportunities – I’ve had a shot at the Fighting Spirit Championship in the past but was defeated in shady circumstances.” TB: “What about your match with Damien for the International Championship?” LM: “I wasn’t given that shot because it was deemed that I earned it; I was given that shot because William Reign wanted to punish Roy Maverick and I was the only person left on the card that hadn’t already been given a match at the pay-per-view.” TB: “Damien beat you fair and square though.” LM: “Yes he did, and I’ve no problem with that. What’s more is he actually showed me respect as a competitor, and as a friend, that’s why we get along. But I certainly didn’t get that from Christian Cruz two weeks ago.” Mason leans forward into the conversation, resting his forearms on his thighs as Bostock sits opposite looking awkward as ever. TB: “Darren Hayes certainly had good things to say about you. In fact, he even said he thinks you got screwed an-“ Mason cuts Bostock off, his shift in position indicates he’s unimpressed. LM: “Yeah, he did, and I appreciate that. But I don’t want sympathy. And what’s more, he also said he’s seen shoot fighters like me before. That’s a mistake.” Mason cracks his knuckles together and looks sternly at Bostock as he speaks. LM: “He hasn’t seen a fighter like me before. I’m a different breed. He seems to think for some reason that I’m going to struggle to maintain my performance for fifteen minutes? That I’m going to get fatigued? I’m a twenty-two year old man - arguably in my physical prime. Now I know Darren Hayes isn’t exactly a ‘has-been’ and from what I’ve seen he’s not too far from being in his prime himself. But the fact is he’s making his big return from a career-threatening injury and that’s exactly why the outcome of this tournament – of this match – is not going to tip in his favour.” TB: “What do you mean?” LM: “The fairy tale ending doesn’t get played out here in FIW, Toby. The ‘people’s underdog’ doesn’t win in this company. He gets screwed. Over, and over, and over. I’m not going to screw Darren Hayes over at ReVolt but I am going to go at him with every single piece of my being and I am going to pin him, I am going to make him tap, I am going to do these things as many times as is necessary in fifteen minutes to ensure that my hand is raised in glory and I am one big step closer to a shot at the Fighting Spirit Championship, and ultimately to the respect that I desire.” TB: “Ok, any last words before I go – I’ve got a movie marathon to get to later.” Lee rolls his eyes. LM: “Good to see you’ve got your priorities in order. “ Lee turns and looks at the, until now unmentioned camera, directly. Emphasising the fact that he is about to address his opponent directly. LM: “Darren, I know you’re ready to hurt somebody but I’m ready to hurt you more. I’ve seen the determination in your eyes and I know you’re going to bring the fight, but I honestly believe that it’s not going to be enough to keep me down this week. You’re prepared to hurt somebody and that’s good because that’s exactly what I’m going to bring. Come ReVolt it will be you and me in the ring and I will be there to do one thing and one thing only... Mason cracks his knuckles again and takes a deep breath as his shoulders roll. LM: “...FIGHT.” And we fade. Otherwise Bostock won’t get to his movie marathon in time. |
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