- Messages
- 160
- Points
- 43
Vic Venom sits atop the Coney Island Ferris wheel, looking out across the water towards New Jersey. Held in his right hand is one of Nathan’s Famous hot dogs and next to him on the seat is a bottle of water. He breathes in deep and turns to the camera.
“What a weird and wonderful place. Where Brooklyn at, indeed. Jack Ripley has decided to come out of nowhere to finally speak his mind. I’m not sure where he was at, but at least he got his feels out into the open. You’re right, Jack, there has been a lot going on. There’s been a lot, I think I’ve covered that for myself and obviously done the homework on you. But you seem to think that the past is something I should leave there and I disagree. It’s the past that makes you who you are today. It’s the past that has shaped me, and you, and everybody into what they are. If you don’t reflect and look back, there are no guarantees that you won’t just repeat the same mistakes over and over again. You are absolutely the current goal and target and everything else is just white noise. Drake and SOSA are irrelevant as long as you stand in front of me. Cage is over with, Malcolm is over with, Noah is over with. But those experiences are still part of me. Why would I forget them? It makes no sense to me, Jack. Just don’t twist that narrative into something that leads you to believe that you are not my absolute sole focus.”
The Ferris wheel slowly moves one position, as people below are offloaded and new people step on.
“You’re right, though. I have let big chances and opportunities slip through my fingers. It’s well documented at this point. Until Cage. Maybe the tides are turning, Jack. Did you reach your low point and decide to throw in the towel? Did you give up and think to yourself that maybe you just can’t cut it or you should be relegated to the lower card and that’s just your place? It certainly doesn’t look that way to me, Jack. It looks like no matter what you went through, you picked yourself up and dusted yourself off and continued moving forward. Why in the world would you believe that it would be any different for me? I’m not satisfied with a loss, Jack. It’s not a good feeling, as you know even if maybe you’ve forgotten it. I refuse to admit defeat. I could lose a hundred times, and I’m still going to get back up. It’s that same determination that will keep me getting back up time and time again in the ring. I don’t want this to be a banana peel loss, or interference or any kind of strange bullshit finish. If it were up to me, Round Table would be locked in a room somewhere in the back and in the ring would simply be you and me. The way it should be. But, people around here have different ideas. I know you’ve given title shots to others in the past that maybe didn’t do anything to properly deserve it, for one reason or another. But right here, right now I’m willing to say that if I win because of any factor other than myself, I will immediately turn down any potential title match that you might want to offer me. Instead, I’ll ask for a rematch that is one on one and anybody that isn’t named Jack Ripley or Vic Venom will be barred from ringside. Then, and only then, will I deserve a title match. Sound fair to you? Good, because while I may not have the name power as, say, a Noah Reigner, I absolutely plan on being somebody that is going to test you. Pushing you to your limit subsequently pushes me to mine. It’s a win-win-win. We both get pushed to pull out all the stops and everybody sitting in that arena and watching at home gets a match they won’t forget anytime soon. That’s the ultimate goal, isn’t it? Be that match that people go to when they talk about somebody. Be that match that people can’t wait to show their friends who don’t watch wrestling as a way to show them just how great the business can be. That’s the kind of match that I’ve envisioned for you and me, Jack. Just greatness inside the ring. A match to end all matches. It’s simply a bonus that you happen to have your beloved National Elite belt draped over your shoulder.”
Vic turns and takes a bite of his hot dog as the Ferris wheel continues to load and unload people. He begins talking with food still in his mouth.
“I do want to take a sidebar here for a moment, though, and just point something out since you haven’t really been paying attention.”
He swallows and his expression turns dark.
“You can say whatever you like about my father, Jack, but one thing I will not stand for is you assuming and believing even for a second that I am somehow proud to have the genes of that monster. He wasn’t even in my life until I was sixteen. I don’t give two shits what he did twenty fucking years ago. I wanted to be a wrestler and he latched onto that like a pilot fish just hoping to feed off of whatever scraps came his way. I am in no way my father. There is no family heritage that I am proud of from that side. My name is my name, that is what my mother named me and for her, I will respect that. Other than that, and pay attention very clearly, my father is nothing to me and anything that he may have done holds no bearing on what I do with my career moving forward. So keep your little comparisons to yourself and get your fucking facts straight before you decide to run off on these little tangents that simply don’t apply.”
Vic turns from the camera as the wheel moves more continually. He takes a few deep breaths before setting down his hot dog and turning back to the camera.
“I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from when it comes to my appreciation of your struggles. Everything that Jack Ripley had to go through, all the shit sandwiches you had to eat in order to stand where you are holding that belt as long as you have is truly remarkable. As it stands right now, here in this moment, I respect you. I respect you more than a lot of people I’ve come across in EAW, quite frankly, because you’re a man of honor. You want to dub yourself a legend of this business and therefore put this match among the greats that I’ve already taken on here in EAW? Alright. I will give you the same benefit of the doubt that you have so graciously given me. I want a title shot, sure. We covered that. I want to prove to everybody that I belong on this level, against legends like you, Jack. I want to put on memorable matches that everybody can rewatch and appreciate over and over again until we are nothing but dust. So that’s what I’m going to bring, Jacky boy, and after everything that you’ve said, I believe it’s the same thing that you’re going to bring. See you tomorrow night, Jacky. It’s going to be something else.”
Vic turns from the camera and goes back to enjoying the view as the scene fades.
“What a weird and wonderful place. Where Brooklyn at, indeed. Jack Ripley has decided to come out of nowhere to finally speak his mind. I’m not sure where he was at, but at least he got his feels out into the open. You’re right, Jack, there has been a lot going on. There’s been a lot, I think I’ve covered that for myself and obviously done the homework on you. But you seem to think that the past is something I should leave there and I disagree. It’s the past that makes you who you are today. It’s the past that has shaped me, and you, and everybody into what they are. If you don’t reflect and look back, there are no guarantees that you won’t just repeat the same mistakes over and over again. You are absolutely the current goal and target and everything else is just white noise. Drake and SOSA are irrelevant as long as you stand in front of me. Cage is over with, Malcolm is over with, Noah is over with. But those experiences are still part of me. Why would I forget them? It makes no sense to me, Jack. Just don’t twist that narrative into something that leads you to believe that you are not my absolute sole focus.”
The Ferris wheel slowly moves one position, as people below are offloaded and new people step on.
“You’re right, though. I have let big chances and opportunities slip through my fingers. It’s well documented at this point. Until Cage. Maybe the tides are turning, Jack. Did you reach your low point and decide to throw in the towel? Did you give up and think to yourself that maybe you just can’t cut it or you should be relegated to the lower card and that’s just your place? It certainly doesn’t look that way to me, Jack. It looks like no matter what you went through, you picked yourself up and dusted yourself off and continued moving forward. Why in the world would you believe that it would be any different for me? I’m not satisfied with a loss, Jack. It’s not a good feeling, as you know even if maybe you’ve forgotten it. I refuse to admit defeat. I could lose a hundred times, and I’m still going to get back up. It’s that same determination that will keep me getting back up time and time again in the ring. I don’t want this to be a banana peel loss, or interference or any kind of strange bullshit finish. If it were up to me, Round Table would be locked in a room somewhere in the back and in the ring would simply be you and me. The way it should be. But, people around here have different ideas. I know you’ve given title shots to others in the past that maybe didn’t do anything to properly deserve it, for one reason or another. But right here, right now I’m willing to say that if I win because of any factor other than myself, I will immediately turn down any potential title match that you might want to offer me. Instead, I’ll ask for a rematch that is one on one and anybody that isn’t named Jack Ripley or Vic Venom will be barred from ringside. Then, and only then, will I deserve a title match. Sound fair to you? Good, because while I may not have the name power as, say, a Noah Reigner, I absolutely plan on being somebody that is going to test you. Pushing you to your limit subsequently pushes me to mine. It’s a win-win-win. We both get pushed to pull out all the stops and everybody sitting in that arena and watching at home gets a match they won’t forget anytime soon. That’s the ultimate goal, isn’t it? Be that match that people go to when they talk about somebody. Be that match that people can’t wait to show their friends who don’t watch wrestling as a way to show them just how great the business can be. That’s the kind of match that I’ve envisioned for you and me, Jack. Just greatness inside the ring. A match to end all matches. It’s simply a bonus that you happen to have your beloved National Elite belt draped over your shoulder.”
Vic turns and takes a bite of his hot dog as the Ferris wheel continues to load and unload people. He begins talking with food still in his mouth.
“I do want to take a sidebar here for a moment, though, and just point something out since you haven’t really been paying attention.”
He swallows and his expression turns dark.
“You can say whatever you like about my father, Jack, but one thing I will not stand for is you assuming and believing even for a second that I am somehow proud to have the genes of that monster. He wasn’t even in my life until I was sixteen. I don’t give two shits what he did twenty fucking years ago. I wanted to be a wrestler and he latched onto that like a pilot fish just hoping to feed off of whatever scraps came his way. I am in no way my father. There is no family heritage that I am proud of from that side. My name is my name, that is what my mother named me and for her, I will respect that. Other than that, and pay attention very clearly, my father is nothing to me and anything that he may have done holds no bearing on what I do with my career moving forward. So keep your little comparisons to yourself and get your fucking facts straight before you decide to run off on these little tangents that simply don’t apply.”
Vic turns from the camera as the wheel moves more continually. He takes a few deep breaths before setting down his hot dog and turning back to the camera.
“I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from when it comes to my appreciation of your struggles. Everything that Jack Ripley had to go through, all the shit sandwiches you had to eat in order to stand where you are holding that belt as long as you have is truly remarkable. As it stands right now, here in this moment, I respect you. I respect you more than a lot of people I’ve come across in EAW, quite frankly, because you’re a man of honor. You want to dub yourself a legend of this business and therefore put this match among the greats that I’ve already taken on here in EAW? Alright. I will give you the same benefit of the doubt that you have so graciously given me. I want a title shot, sure. We covered that. I want to prove to everybody that I belong on this level, against legends like you, Jack. I want to put on memorable matches that everybody can rewatch and appreciate over and over again until we are nothing but dust. So that’s what I’m going to bring, Jacky boy, and after everything that you’ve said, I believe it’s the same thing that you’re going to bring. See you tomorrow night, Jacky. It’s going to be something else.”
Vic turns from the camera and goes back to enjoying the view as the scene fades.
