“Years in the making...”

[Instead of a smokey bar with frat boys, instead of decadent bourbon sauce bread pudding, there was a fat cigar billowing smoke inside The Defiance promo booth. Despite the city, state or location it was always the same. The walls were scrubbed in attempt to make them bright and white but egg has dried on the walls from the World champion – that shit is impossible to remove.]

[Edward White sat on a bar stool he had brought in, one leg propped up on the lower rung, his other straight out with his fine Italian leather shoe on the floor. He rolled his cigar between his thumb and index finger admiring the ash that had accumulated at the end, making sure to keep it all intact.]

“Like architectural marvels, brilliant works of art and the most complex of compositions, this match has had years in the making behind it. So many years, that a project manager worth his own salt would say we've gone beyond our scope and budget. Many things need to be covered to understand this match.

“Unlike most reports over the cause of delay in a project, this one will not start with the ancient past. No, I will not be sifting through the videography of OLW to watch the rising genius of Kai Scott. And no, I will not be forced to watch Python giggle and play grab ass with Adrien Cochrane in buddy segment from WWA. I will absolutely not regale you with stories of Dentari going to comic book stores to do meet and greets with pimple faced wrassling fanatics. And I'll only mention Doozer, maybe three more times.

“My analysis of this match will begin with the man who has the least to contribute to the making of this match.”

[He chuckles, inhaling a puff of sophisticated smoke before muttering his name.]

“Python”

[Edward White looks off into a corner of the room, away from the camera. There was no need for eye contact.]

“So, you pinned me?

“But, do you have anything else to show for yourself?

“I'm no means of achievement, I'm not a feather in someone's hat. I'm not even the Master of Wrestling. Holding a pin fall victory over Christian Light, now that's something to be proud of. Have you managed that feat Python? No, from what I recall, the closest thing you got to that was defeating my good friend, Ryan Blasier, from the World Heavyweight Championship. Impressive, I'll admit, but that's  about five years in the past.

“His name has little clout these days. Just another name to throw around like Boston Bancroft, Dusty Griffith or Jack Amethyst.

“Here's a name that matters: Cancer Jiles.”

[Eye Contact Engaged.]

“Have you pinned Cancer Jiles? Have you made him beg for mercy? Have you painted the canvas with his blood?

“No. But I have.

“And I'll have no problems doing the exact same thing to you.”

[Edward presses the cigar against his lips, the ash growing on the end of his cigar as he does so.]

“Aleco Dentari. You know, I really don't have any beef with you. Sure, we had our run ins over the FIST of Defiance. I've bloodied you, you've bloodied me but at the end of the day, I came out on top. The superior wrestler, the more able bodied man, the more resourceful capitalist. There's one thing I've learned in business, the underdog must be feared.

“But like Bill Gates, a fellow billionaire, I have no qualms of buying out the underdog. Undercutting, undervaluing and manipulating the market for my own monopolistic gains. You have a price, every man does, people the likes of Jeff Andrews over estimated their worth, but it still remain a fact.

“I can buy you.

“And if I can't buy you right now, your trusted associates. Well, lets just say, rather than sleeping with the fishes – they could be living like a Whale, carefree with ladies on either arm as they stroll around in European casinos with every whim provided for them.

“Of course, loyalty, family... it's something they'll never betray.

“Tell me Dentari – why do you guys never talk about Uncle RICO?”

[A cackle.]

“All I'm saying Alceo, things can be easy or they can be hard. The choice is yours.”

[The Socialite repositions himself on the stool, moving his other foot to a rung.]

“Kai, I've thought about this for a while, what do you want out of this whole thing?

“I don't mean about this match. I mean, your presence in this match is undeniable but not entirely too odd. We can pretend like its something as cut and dry as winning the championship, being the pinnacle of wrestling achievement and other temporary accomplishments that makes up a criculium vitae. But it's a shallow and meaningless task.

“It's too banal for you.

“Instead, I look beyond that. Why are you still here?

“Your brethren have fallen, the only link you and I have in any respect to Bad Blood would be my triumphs over the Untouchables when you were abstinent. Perhaps Claira St. Sure defeating me? But neither of those things are that important.

“If you were Python, it'd be enough. But you're not a simpleton like him.

“Hell, if you were Dentari, all I'd have to do is call you Napoleon a few times and that'd be enough to get your ire.

“Instead of asking, Why should I care about Kai Scott being in the match?, I'll ask Why does Kai Scott care about being in this match?”

[Edward White stands up, growing tired of the stool he had sat perched on.]

“Having talked this out... it's apparent to me, that none of you men bring the years in the making to this match. In the realm of this match, each and every one of you are after thoughts to the process. This bridge from the past to the future, you all are road signs, toll booths and suicide nets to prevent cowards from ending their lives prematurely.

“The iron, cable, pavement, concrete, structural integrity and foundation... all of it. Every single significant piece of this puzzle has been assembled by me...

“... and Cancer Jiles.”

[He flicks his cigar, the ash crumbling off the cigar and fluttering down to the ground.]

“You and I.

“Years in the making.

“You could add any one to this match: Bronson Box, Dan Ryan, Christian Light, Cobra, Jeff Andrews or any other OLW hack from wonder years...  And the only two men that will matter are you and me.

“This match isn't mano-a-mano. But I can guarantee you... it will be in the end.”

[Edward White grins, chuckling to himself.]
 

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