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Two Mantras; Nathaniel Alexander
Topic Started: Apr 30 2017, 04:41 AM (18 Views)
Digitalwheelin
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Nathan
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Fade In:

Ever been to an Irish pub before?

No?

Well, you’re in luck, because that’s where this particular scene takes place. The air is abuzz with the sound of random conversation throughout the bar. The camera tracks behind the barstools where several patrons are focused on a television above the bar. As the camera nears the back of the main area of the bar, a familiar Irishwoman–familiar to a few people at least–happens to walk across the frame. But that’s not who we’re here to see, obviously. The camera continues toward the back of the bar before reaching a booth wherein we find the Diamond Standard, Nathaniel Alexander seated with a glass of whiskey in front of him. He sips at the amber liquid and sets the glass down and leans back in the wooden seat.

Y'know, in the world of professional wrestling, there are two mantras that everybody in and out of the business—starting with the boys and girls in the back all the way to the people watching on television—two mantras they all abide by.

Nathaniel leans forward in the seat and raises two fingers toward the camera, further emphasizing "two." He then lowers one finger.

Number one: 'never say never.'

He raises his other finger back up, once again showing two.

And number two: 'always expect the unexpected.'

The big man gives a sideways nod and leans back in the seat again.

Last year. Summer of Sin. Nathaniel Alexander versus the International Champion, Johnny Amazing.

Nathaniel holds his up and motions across the air as if miming a banner high above him.

When all was said and done and the dust had settled after that match, I walked away from that ring dead set on the fact that I was never coming back to this business. After twelve years in this business, I was finished. Never again would this business see Nathaniel Alexander in the ring. And then…then I saw the rise of Johnny Amazing to the top of the mountain. I watched on television as this punk kid that I could have swatted like a goddamn fly ascend to the top of the ranks. This kid benefited from my downfall…and I just couldn’t have that.

Nathaniel shakes his head adamantly. He takes a sip of his whiskey and sets the glass down again.

So, despite saying ‘never again,’ I made my way back to this business to right all the wrongs that had gone down since I left. I came back for the Coulter Crew, and I came back to take what should rightfully be mine. But then week after week, night after night, people would come out of the goddamn woodwork, all with the intention of keeping me from having it all!

Despite the intensity in Nathaniel’s voice, no one in the bar turns their attention to him, all of them lost in their own goings-on and the volume in their voices seemingly matching that of the Diamond Standard. A scowl forms on the big man’s face as he stares off into the distance. He takes up his whiskey glass once again and sips from it, breathing a heavy sigh as he sets it down and refocuses.

And I should have expected it. We should have expected there would be people in FIW who would be adamant that no one in the Crew prosper, that no one in the Crew get what they want out of this business. I should have expected to see people trying to prevent me from having what I want…and yet, here we are. But y’see, we’ve already rid this company of one problem–Fat Manson Jr. is no longer an issue. And wouldn’t you know it, in just a few short days, my buddy Stephen J. Eversol and I get to step in that ring along with some hick with a superiority complex, and purge this business of three more problems.

Nathaniel shrugs his shoulders and holds his hands out, palms out as if presenting the situation that he and Stephen are currently in.

Now, as far as I’m concerned, that green-haired fuck can ignore all the tags he wants from either myself or Stephen. Here's a newsflash for you, kid, we don't fuckin’ need you. Y’see, you may have held that Rising title once before, but that was then. Being a former champion doesn't give you some one-way ticket to the bigs with the Crew. So, you can ignore our tags, you can stay on the apron, hell, you can stay in the back for all I fuckin’ care.

He gives a dismissive wave of the hand as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He glances around the bar before taking another sip of his whiskey, finishing the contents. He whistles loudly to get the bartender’s attention and holds up his empty glass. He holds up one finger to indicate he wants another and turns his attention back to the camera.

When it comes down to it, the only people I'll be focused on are the three right across the ring from us. Johnny Amazing, Joe Stanton, and The Dream. Three people who have been the bane of my fuckin’ existence throughout the last six months I've been back in this fuckin’ company. Now, Johnny, you and I have been up and down this fuckin’ road already. You know just as well as I do my crosshairs have always been on you. I may have missed my shot, but the Crew still has the opportunity to finally take you out of this fuckin’ business and you can bet money if it can’t be me, one of us will make it happen.

Just then, the bartender brings Nathaniel a new glass of whiskey and sets it in front of him, taking up the empty. They walk out of frame and the big man takes a sip of the new drink, setting the glass down on the table.

Joe Stanton. I gotta say, you’ve garnered quite a bit of attention for yourself since you made your way to FIW. All eyes have been on Joe Stanton, waiting to see if the man who was once capable of holding championship gold will be able to return to that same level. Now you've gone and placed your name in the hat to compete for my buddy’s FSC championship. And apparently, when we step in the ring against one another, you’re gonna…what was it? ‘Crack my jaw into powder’?

Nathaniel chuckles, the look on his face as if the mere thought of that is ridiculous to even consider.

That’s quite the bold claim there. But y’know, I’m glad you’ve managed to get people’s attention in and out of this company, bud. I really am. And I hope they’re all watching. I hope they’re all close attention. Because on May 2nd, I'm gonna make sure I leave you crumbling to the fuckin’ mat.

Alexander rolls his shoulders, the scowl that formed on his face earlier now returning. He sips at his whisky a couple of times, seemingly trying to use it to calm himself. He sets the glass down and rests his elbows on the table in front of him.

And last, but not least, the second-rate clown, The Dream. Y’know, I’ve been champing at the bit, just waiting until I could get you in the ring just one more time. Because like I’ve said before, if not for you, I’d be in my rightful place in this company; holding that FIW championship over my shoulder. But instead, I’ve been dragged down into the fuckin’ mud, I’ve been dragged down to your level. And now, I’m sure everybody expects the Diamond Standard to fall to The Dream once again, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen one more time. You’re all going to learn to expect the unexpected. As I said before, I’m here to right the wrongs in this fuckin’ company, and on May 2nd, I’m starting with you. You can put money on that.

With that, the Diamond Standard grabs the whiskey glass and downs the remaining contents of it before setting it back down on the table. He stands and grabs his coat from the back of the chair he was sitting in and puts it on. With a quick glance around the bar, he walks off the frame as we…

:Fade Out
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