Post by John Anthony on Jun 22, 2007 16:10:29 GMT -6
Weekly Role Play #1
/--- Takes Two to Tango ---\
It had been difficult staying out of the ever-watching eyes of the media this week, but John had succeeded for the main part. His workouts at the gym and training sessions in the ring were guarded by a personal employee of Bodog Sports whom Calvin Ayre had sent at John’s request. He had a lot to prepare for this week and didn’t need unnecessary distractions or those who doubt him to question his early return to the ring. Hearing Julia Sven, his personal secretary, question him in a rather harsh tone of voice just a week prior was more than enough. John felt fine, his ankle was strong and his headaches had subsided. Rest returned to him at night and his dreams had taken a turn for the better. No more nights of cold sweat and visions of pain, agony, and humiliation.
John walked through the kitchen of his suite and opened a cabinet door above the stainless steel refrigerator. Peering inside John grabbed four champagne glasses.
“What can I get my guests to drink this evening?”
The replies came in the form of “Just water, thanks”, “I’m fine thank you”, and “Please, something with a punch.” Already John had taken a liking to his third guest. He quickly prepared the drinks; an iced water, an empty glass, a finely aged chardonnay, and another for himself. Carrying the four glasses on a tray like some sort of upscale waiter, John returned to his living room to deliver the drinks to the three reporters lined on his sofa. No cameras, no crowds, and no lights. Just three reporters who John had invited into his home here in Trenton, New Jersey to sit down and interview him just three days before his chance at redemption against Macros. John chose his leather recliner to plop down in. Leaning forward he clasped his hands together and then opened them as if to signal the reports to fire away.
“Mr. Anthony, I’m a reporter for the New Jersey Post and have to ask the question on everyone’s mind: Are you truly prepared both mentally and physically to return to the ring? And against Macros no less, the man who put you in the predicament you suffered just weeks ago!”
Sign number one that a reporter will begin with an unimaginative question that you’ve already prepared for: He requests nothing to drink when you offer. Sign number two: He wears a wristhingych that looks like it came from Wal-mart.
“Excellent question, and one that definitely needs to be addressed. You’ll have to forgive me if I sound disgruntled today. My career so far has been nothing short of a life changing experience. Every moment I spend in that ring is worth the ridicule, the pain, and the training I endure. To stand before the fans, to burst forth from that curtain when my theme song is played over the speakers. You have to understand that even after a mere two weeks of being sidelined due to injuries that I felt a piece of me was missing. My Sunday nights were no longer spent giving my all for those who had paid their hard earned money to see the greatest POW: New England had to offer. I lay in bed and read the reports of POW’s shows. I couldn’t even stomach watching them knowing I should be there in that ring. When Buddy Love gave me the opportunity to appear at Over in Dover, even as a guest referee for a porn star mud wrestling match, I simply couldn’t refuse. Just a glimpse of the glory I was returning to… to taste the air of a crowded arena one more time. It was enough to make me realize I could endure a simple ankle injury and concussion.”
The third reporter had downed his chardonnay already. At first John took a liking to his tastes, but keeping him along too long could prove costly to his supplies. He’d just refrain from offering refills for the time being. Placing the empty glass down, the third reporter smiled and began.
“But you avoided the fact that your return match is once again against the Legion Soldier Macros. This man had little problem leaving you on the mat in a bloodied mess, unable to stand. What must be going through your head as you prepare to stand across from him again?”
“Not revenge. Let me put that out there first and foremost. I have little hard feelings against Macros. He was doing his job, and that’s to win no matter the cost. I refused to stay down for the count no matter what he threw at me, so one could even blame John Anthony for his own stubbornness. I just look forward to having a chance at setting the record straight, evening the score one to one, and going after a man who I’m a bit more perturbed at.”
The first reporter, a female in a black business dress who had requested the water, jumped at the opening.
“You mean JR Zevon, the current POW: New England Heavyweight Champion who will be the special guest referee in your match this weekend?”
“Thank you for the Zevon infomercial ma’am, and yes, that’s who I am indeed referring to. Zevon knows he isn’t invincible and he knows his title is in jeopardy. Sure I’m still green, still new to this business, but an opportunity is an opportunity. Two months ago I walked the streets and found a promotional poster for a POW: New England DVD taping that simply said ‘Also featuring’ and named the unheard of competitors for the Gutcheck Gauntlet. I won that match and every match after it until I faced off with Macros. That man showed me what it’s like to fight someone as determined and talented as you. Once I come out victorious this weekend, I won’t be a name in fine print on the bottom of a poster anymore. I’ll be in a position to stand in front of Zevon as he wears that title around his waist and give him the fight of his life for it. The fans are surely in for a treat once our dance begins.”[/color
“So does that…”
John held up his hand before allowing her to continue.
“I apologize, but I’m afraid we’ll have to stop here for today.”
“But that’s only three…”
Again, his hand was raised.
“I know, and I again apologize. Like I said however, I’m trying to avoid any media attention this week. I need to stay focused and humbled, not floating around and boasting about my chance to ‘stick it to Macros’ this weekend, because it’s nothing like that. I might not be 100% this weekend, but I doubt he is either. We’ll lock up the minute that bell rings and someone is going down. Whether it be myself, Macros, or Zevon, that remains to be seen. Although if I were Zevon I’d call things down the line. Otherwise he might find himself doing more than just refereeing. But anyway, thank you for coming this evening and enjoy the weekend. Maybe we can speak on a lighter note after I take care of a few things this Sunday.”
After the three reporters exited, John shut the door and burst into laughter. This whole "oh look at how serious I am rawr" thing was hard to do with a straight face. John was just glad to be back in the ring, but the whole "man-on-a-mission" facade gave the reporters something to work with. He looked forward to reading his butchered quotes and misunderstood dialogs about this weekend's event. John could see it already; "John Anthony seeks complete revenge on Macros and Zevon! Plans to end both of their careers this weekend!" Reporters. Serious business.
/--- Takes Two to Tango ---\
It had been difficult staying out of the ever-watching eyes of the media this week, but John had succeeded for the main part. His workouts at the gym and training sessions in the ring were guarded by a personal employee of Bodog Sports whom Calvin Ayre had sent at John’s request. He had a lot to prepare for this week and didn’t need unnecessary distractions or those who doubt him to question his early return to the ring. Hearing Julia Sven, his personal secretary, question him in a rather harsh tone of voice just a week prior was more than enough. John felt fine, his ankle was strong and his headaches had subsided. Rest returned to him at night and his dreams had taken a turn for the better. No more nights of cold sweat and visions of pain, agony, and humiliation.
John walked through the kitchen of his suite and opened a cabinet door above the stainless steel refrigerator. Peering inside John grabbed four champagne glasses.
“What can I get my guests to drink this evening?”
The replies came in the form of “Just water, thanks”, “I’m fine thank you”, and “Please, something with a punch.” Already John had taken a liking to his third guest. He quickly prepared the drinks; an iced water, an empty glass, a finely aged chardonnay, and another for himself. Carrying the four glasses on a tray like some sort of upscale waiter, John returned to his living room to deliver the drinks to the three reporters lined on his sofa. No cameras, no crowds, and no lights. Just three reporters who John had invited into his home here in Trenton, New Jersey to sit down and interview him just three days before his chance at redemption against Macros. John chose his leather recliner to plop down in. Leaning forward he clasped his hands together and then opened them as if to signal the reports to fire away.
“Mr. Anthony, I’m a reporter for the New Jersey Post and have to ask the question on everyone’s mind: Are you truly prepared both mentally and physically to return to the ring? And against Macros no less, the man who put you in the predicament you suffered just weeks ago!”
Sign number one that a reporter will begin with an unimaginative question that you’ve already prepared for: He requests nothing to drink when you offer. Sign number two: He wears a wristhingych that looks like it came from Wal-mart.
“Excellent question, and one that definitely needs to be addressed. You’ll have to forgive me if I sound disgruntled today. My career so far has been nothing short of a life changing experience. Every moment I spend in that ring is worth the ridicule, the pain, and the training I endure. To stand before the fans, to burst forth from that curtain when my theme song is played over the speakers. You have to understand that even after a mere two weeks of being sidelined due to injuries that I felt a piece of me was missing. My Sunday nights were no longer spent giving my all for those who had paid their hard earned money to see the greatest POW: New England had to offer. I lay in bed and read the reports of POW’s shows. I couldn’t even stomach watching them knowing I should be there in that ring. When Buddy Love gave me the opportunity to appear at Over in Dover, even as a guest referee for a porn star mud wrestling match, I simply couldn’t refuse. Just a glimpse of the glory I was returning to… to taste the air of a crowded arena one more time. It was enough to make me realize I could endure a simple ankle injury and concussion.”
The third reporter had downed his chardonnay already. At first John took a liking to his tastes, but keeping him along too long could prove costly to his supplies. He’d just refrain from offering refills for the time being. Placing the empty glass down, the third reporter smiled and began.
“But you avoided the fact that your return match is once again against the Legion Soldier Macros. This man had little problem leaving you on the mat in a bloodied mess, unable to stand. What must be going through your head as you prepare to stand across from him again?”
“Not revenge. Let me put that out there first and foremost. I have little hard feelings against Macros. He was doing his job, and that’s to win no matter the cost. I refused to stay down for the count no matter what he threw at me, so one could even blame John Anthony for his own stubbornness. I just look forward to having a chance at setting the record straight, evening the score one to one, and going after a man who I’m a bit more perturbed at.”
The first reporter, a female in a black business dress who had requested the water, jumped at the opening.
“You mean JR Zevon, the current POW: New England Heavyweight Champion who will be the special guest referee in your match this weekend?”
“Thank you for the Zevon infomercial ma’am, and yes, that’s who I am indeed referring to. Zevon knows he isn’t invincible and he knows his title is in jeopardy. Sure I’m still green, still new to this business, but an opportunity is an opportunity. Two months ago I walked the streets and found a promotional poster for a POW: New England DVD taping that simply said ‘Also featuring’ and named the unheard of competitors for the Gutcheck Gauntlet. I won that match and every match after it until I faced off with Macros. That man showed me what it’s like to fight someone as determined and talented as you. Once I come out victorious this weekend, I won’t be a name in fine print on the bottom of a poster anymore. I’ll be in a position to stand in front of Zevon as he wears that title around his waist and give him the fight of his life for it. The fans are surely in for a treat once our dance begins.”[/color
“So does that…”
John held up his hand before allowing her to continue.
“I apologize, but I’m afraid we’ll have to stop here for today.”
“But that’s only three…”
Again, his hand was raised.
“I know, and I again apologize. Like I said however, I’m trying to avoid any media attention this week. I need to stay focused and humbled, not floating around and boasting about my chance to ‘stick it to Macros’ this weekend, because it’s nothing like that. I might not be 100% this weekend, but I doubt he is either. We’ll lock up the minute that bell rings and someone is going down. Whether it be myself, Macros, or Zevon, that remains to be seen. Although if I were Zevon I’d call things down the line. Otherwise he might find himself doing more than just refereeing. But anyway, thank you for coming this evening and enjoy the weekend. Maybe we can speak on a lighter note after I take care of a few things this Sunday.”
After the three reporters exited, John shut the door and burst into laughter. This whole "oh look at how serious I am rawr" thing was hard to do with a straight face. John was just glad to be back in the ring, but the whole "man-on-a-mission" facade gave the reporters something to work with. He looked forward to reading his butchered quotes and misunderstood dialogs about this weekend's event. John could see it already; "John Anthony seeks complete revenge on Macros and Zevon! Plans to end both of their careers this weekend!" Reporters. Serious business.
