RP #6- "Pride and Pain"

[Promo - The Undeniable Words #6, 31/3/08]

Alright, ladies and gentlemen, my one Disclosure off to recuperate from my injuries has officially passed. With no further ado and with full medical clearance, since they insisted that I get it before coming back to fight, we now return you to your regular weekly dosage of SJ on Disclosure.

This is officially my first Undeniable Words as Bloodshed Championship, too. I have to give all the credit in the world to Sean Williams, he put up one hell of a fight... but nevertheless, times have changed and a new regime is in place in the Bloodshed Championship ranks. Pretty ironic that a title requiring such bloodshed and hardcore fighting becomes my first title belt, but hey, a championship is what you make of it. You'd better believe me when I tell you that I intend on making this the most memorable Bloodshed title reign for some time to come, and I intend on being remembered as one hell of a Bloodshed Championship. Hell, I even intend on giving some of the other champions a run for their money.

Funnily enough, I've been given that opportunity much quicker than I thought I would.

My match this particular week involves none other than the Prodigy Champion himself, Julian Dark- and the vast bulk of this week's Undeniable Words will therefore be reserved for him. With that said, there is another order of business I need to be addressing for this week's Disclosure, so I'll get that out of the way first up. Namely, I'm talking about a certain match going down to determine just which two people are going to be the first to take a shot at at me for the Bloodshed Championship.

The Tank. Aiden Cross. The Jaxxster. Jayson Hudson. Shock. Shabazz. Seems like you lot all get to duke it out in teams to work out which of you are getting shots at the title. Now, I'm sure there are going to be a lot of people who are going to shrug this match off, pay little interest to it, and just assume it's your standard 'bunch of rookies and Shabazz duking it out for a title shot they'll never even stand a chance of winning' match. Believe it or not, gentlemen, I plan on doing no such thing. By being slotted into a position to contend for my championship, each and every one of you have managed to draw my eyes down upon you. Is that a threat? Nah, not really, but be aware that you won't be taking me by surprise when two of you do eventually get your title shot. I'm not complacent and I won't be distracted. I will be watching the match- and believe me, I'll be very well prepared for you when the time comes to face you two in battle. I'd highly advise you tune in to my match against Julian this week- it could be the only advance warning you boys are going to get and it could be the only chance you have to know just what you're up against.

Alright. Now that's been said, it's time to get to the core of the matter. Julian Dark. Bloodshed Champion versus Prodigy Champion. Well, so much for coming back in gently, I guess. I have to admit, the fact they're throwing me up against the Prodigy Champ seems to indicate that I'm certainly doing something right- and it seems that I've managed to officially line up some tougher competition. One might argue that as Bloodshed Champion I can sit on my arse and no longer worry about making a name for myself- but I'm looking beyond this title. There will be a time, and it's probably not too far away, where I'll have to go beyond it and transcend it- and I intend on having my foot already in the door when that time comes.

And one could argue, Julian, that at this precise time, there's no better way to do that than to defeat you.

I can... certainly see what was going through the heads of the powers that be when this match was booked, Julian. As I'm sure you no doubt know yourself, there were two matches at Blind Fury which could have been considered absolutely devastating on all of their participants. Two matches that had the 'holy shit' chants echoing throughout the Spectrum. Two matches that many people would say it was a miracle to see their participants survive with their careers intact. The first match was none other than my own. The second was none other than your own. No matter what one of us can say about the other, there's one fact that simply can't be disputed- the two of us survived through some serious bloodbaths that night. What better way than to put a survivor of each up against each other?

I also imagine it's probably a way to seriously test my undefeated streak, because arguably, you're considered the number two man around here right now. I've already demonstrated and proven that I'm the real deal, now it's a matter of determining just how much of a deal I am. And that's more or less how I'm looking at this match. I doubt this will be the last time we clash. Cause we both know that one day, the stakes are going to be so much higher. Maybe one day I'll have to defend my title against you. Maybe one day you'll have to defend yours against me. And maybe, just maybe, there might be something even larger at stake- if you catch my meaning. But one way or the other, I intend on seizing the lead right here and now and running with it.

[MAIN STORY]

DATE/TIME: 7:30AM, Sunday March 30, 2008
LOCATION: The Shack, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

It had been... a rather uneventful couple of weeks, all things considered.

One thing had been certain going into the Blind Fury PPV of a few weeks ago- Steve Jason was making it absolutely certain to all and sundry that he was coming for the Bloodshed Championship. He said it to interviewers, he said it to friends, he said it to acquaintances and he even said it to Sean Williams himself. And sure enough, that was exactly what happened. Steve walked into arguably the biggest bloodbath and the most physically demanding match in his time with Platinum Dynasty Wrestling, and had entered a contest that many said could have gone either way, and that more than a few claimed was a lost cause for Steve, but at long last, success had finally been his and his imprint had finally been made on the PDW when he raised the Bloodshed Championship, finally his, at last.

But it hadn't come without a price. To put Sean Williams down, Steve had been forced to put himself through absolute, total and utter hell. Just like his victory was unprecedented in PDW, so was the price he'd had to pay for it. Bruising. Battering. More than a little internal bleeding. He'd been taken to a medical facility directly after the match, and the news had been brought to him- while he had been lucky enough to have avoided a lengthy drop out of action, he was still going to have to be on the shelf for a good couple of weeks to ensure that he didn't accidentally burst himself open if he missed a dive or took a hard move.

Steve hated sitting on the sidelines. Even if he'd just missed one show, it was torture. Fortunately, he'd been able to break the monotony by dropping by the grand opening of the Platinum Spot, but nevertheless, he was relieved to have finally been given marching orders for the next Disclosure. Any longer sitting around doing nothing, and he'd have probably gone mad from boredom. And so it was that he'd finally returned to his usual cycle of preparing for matches- this time perhaps cranked up a notch, due to the... somewhat higher level of difficulty of his opponent this time around.

It was directly after one of those training sessions that we next join Steve Jason.

"Done for another morning?" Dougy McNamara asked as Steve pushed open the door of 'The Shack', the colloquial name for Dougy's brand new place of business. While Steve hadn't really been focusing too much on establishing an 'empire' in Philadelphia, Dougy obviously had better ideas. Steve's best friend had amassed a surprisingly impressive fortune, and had decided to take out the lease on a place and revamp it a little. Steve wasn't quite sure why in the world he would do it, as Dougy didn't really strike him as the entrepreneurial type- but nevertheless, he'd done it.

And so far, it looked like the place had potential. While Dougy hadn't completed most of the renovations yet, it looked like he'd begun to lay the foundations for turning at least part of the building into some kind of combination bar and cafe. As it was the main part of the building, which Steve had just stepped into, was to become the cafe part. That said, about all that was actually present right now was a counter where the coffee would no doubt be served- which was a white, modern-looking plastic countertop cordoning off what would eventually become the kitchen and preparation area. The rest of the large, wide-open space of that particular part of the property was- rather bland. Simple light wooden floors decorated most of the area, along with a few tables and chairs. That was it. No fancy decor, no paintjobs, no wallpaper, and no real couches, chairs or anything that could be part of a functional venue. It was quite obvious that this was a work in progress.

Nevertheless, that didn't stop a beaming Dougy from lording it over the joint. He stood behind the counter with a beaming grin on his face, a white chef's apron covering his yellow floral Hawaiian shirt and shorts, his red trucker cap set slightly ajar.

"More or less," Steve replied, making his way along the empty floor towards the counter, setting his bag down and pulling up a stool, "Gotta go out and do a little more this arvo, but that's all the training I've gotta do for the morning."

"Nice." Dougy raised a brow slightly, "Can I get you a beer?"

"Nah. Too early for that."

"Girly-man. Ah, well, gives me an opportunity to try out the brand spanking new coffee machine." Dougy motioned to a large, involved-looking contraption behind the counter, "It's gonna be a big hit once I open up for business I reckon. Is it a flat white you want, mate?"

"Yep, flat white'll do for me." Steve replied, giving Dougy leave to head towards the machine and start messing around with the dials. All the while, Steve continued the conversation, "So you're officially going through with this, then?"

"Yep!" Dougy raised his voice suddenly as the machine started giving off a loud, whirring sound, "I've got the property deed, and I'm gonna be ordering in most of the equipment pretty soon. All I've gotta do is start hiring people and get a definite plan together, then we can start making this thing go off!"

"What exactly is it supposed to be, anyway? A coffee house? You don't really strike me as the coffee house kind."

"Well, actually, it's a bit more than that. See, for the longest time, I've always had a sort of dream of creating a hangout. Like, the ultimate hangout. Hell, I think we spoke about this once when we were kids, except back then it was all about creating a 'clubhouse'."

"I remember." Steve nodded.

"Well, I'm thinking about doing something similar, but not in a kid way. This place is pretty big, and I reckon we could turn it into a pretty decent little complex. Obviously, the cafe's gonna be part of it, but we've gotta put a bar in here, and pretty soon. I reckon maybe even put a club or a party room or something like that upstairs. There's a pretty nice roof section too, think I might turn that into a general chillout area. And last but not least..." Dougy turned from the machine and grinned suddenly, his green eyes suddenly alight with interest, "A surf shop."

"A surf shop." Steve repeated that, as if not quite getting it.

"You betcha, mate."

"There's only one problem with that. We're kinda in a landlocked city."

"Oh, don't worry about that! You'd be surprised how many people actually would come by- and to boot, there's still all the clothing and apparel, which you of all people should know can be worn anywhere, Mr. I Wrestle In My Boardshorts."

Steve laughed and shook his head slightly, "Yeah, good point. How long's it going to take you to get all that together?"

"Dunno. I think I need to look into hiring and getting the joint off the ground before going too far ahead with it, but I reckon this could be the start of a booming enterprise, mate. I'm actually looking forward to it- after working for Talia and the Conglomerate, I reckon I'm ready to start my own little business. Can I use you as part of advertising campaigns? Nothing flashy, just a 'STEVE JASON HANGS OUT HERE SOMETIMES AND HE'S THE BLOODSHED CHAMPION SO IF YOU CAUSE ANY TROUBLE HE'LL DECAPITATE YOU WITH A BISCOTTI sort of thing."

"If you want, but it's not like I'm the Platinum champ or anything..." Steve laughed.

"Hey, you could be well on your way, though..." Dougy grinned back at Steve as he suddenly pulled away a cup of frothy coffee from the machine, setting it down on the countertop and sliding it along to Steve, "I mean, SJ versus the Prodigy Champ? Your stock's going up, Steve, and everybody knows it."

"I admit, it's a pretty good sign..." Steve agreed, lifting the flat white up and downing a fair portion of it in one swig, "Just gotta make sure I don't blow it."

"Ah, you'll be fine, mate. Just keep your head in the game. He's good, but you've taken down some major players before. Do you know him?"

"Not personally, no. We've got a couple of mutual friends in the game, I believe... Kindred London and Carliee Williams. I get on good with them, they get on good with him, but I don't actually know him per se. Probably better that way to be honest."

"True enough." Dougy grinned, "So, I'm curious. Is Diablo finally leaving you alone?"

Diablo. Steve had almost forgotten about the rich benefactor who, a few weeks ago, Steve had finally told to take a flying leap. Funnily enough, Steve had expected a monstrous backlash from him, given the effort he'd gone to in order to 'check up' on Steve, and get information on his opponents, and try to influence his ways of thinking. But strangely enough, he hadn't heard a single thing. No appearances, no phone calls, no sending his pawns over to try to change Steve's mind. Just... complete silence. It was as if he got the hint completely.

"Amazingly enough, he is." Steve replied, "And that in itself creeps me out."

"Wha? Why?"

"Because up until I said those words, Diablo had no idea of personal boundaries. He'd bug me to death, snoop around in things that didn't concern him, the list goes on. Now all of a sudden he just gives up? Doesn't sound like him, and it kinda gives me the creeps."

"Hmm. Guess it's just a matter of waiting and seeing, then." Dougy answered, "What about..."

The two men got no further as suddenly, the squealing and creaking of the main door could be heard. Steve glanced back over his shoulder, and Dougy looked up from his spot behind the counter to spot just who had come through the door.

Two people. From first glance, it didn't seem as though they'd come as a pair- something about they way they moved, something about their stance that didn't seem right to Steve's razor-sharp perception. Whoever they were, they didn't know each other too well- if they did at all. One was a man- about five-ten or so from first glance, lean and wiry, with alert dark eyes, a hardened facial expression, relatively tanned skin and close-cut brown hair, with a short goatee to match. He was decked out in a green open short-sleeved shirt, left wide open over a white tank-top, and matching combat pants.

The other one was a woman- somewhat smaller than the man, probably about five-three or five-four if Steve were to guess. She was slender- and quite athletically so from what Steve could tell, with slightly tanned skin and long, ash-blonde hair falling to her upper back. Unlike her much rougher-looking companion, she had soft facial features, full lips and piercing blue-green eyes, with a moderate amount of makeup- enough to make her look nice, but not enough for the disgustingly-artificial look. She'd dressed pretty casually, in a white baby tee and tight denim jeans. Both shot their gazes over towards Steve, Dougy and the counter, and then both began to make their way over. As they got close, Dougy's eyes lit up and a pearly grin crossed his face as he spoke.

"G'day, mates! Welcome to The Shack. What can I getcha?"

"'The Shack?'" Steve blinked.

"Didn't I mention? That's what I'm calling it..." Dougy answered before turning back towards the two new arrivals.

"What's going on, my man. You Dougy McNamara?" Steve knew that accent. South African. Not quite the same as Australian, although foreigners always mixed the two up along with New Zealand accents.

"I am indeed. I'm Dougy McNamara, the administrator of this here facility..."

"Oh dear God, he's quoting The Empire Strikes Back..." Steve muttered.

"...thank you, Steve... anyway. Need to speak to me about something?"

"Yeah. Me and the little lady here both seemed to have noticed your 'Help Wanted' ad and both seemed to have come down at exactly the same time..." The man was about to continue, but Steve suddenly interrupted.

"OK, OK, OK, before we go any further. Does the name 'Jim Diablo' mean anything to you two? Cause I've got a rather disturbing sense of deja vu..."

"Um... no, I can't say I know of anybody called Jim Diablo..." The girl spoke up now- in contrast to the gruff voice of the man, she has a somewhat sweeter, lighter tone of voice- and if anything, her accent was local, "Why?"

"Perhaps an introduction is in order. The overcynical coffee-drinking man over there is SJ. He's a friend of mine. And he's somebody you guys will be seeing a lot of. Jim Diablo is the name of an elitist wanker who's been bothering him up until recently. You say you don't know him, so that's good enough for me. Anyway, what about you two? Can I get your names?"

"Name's Dave van Buren, Mr. McNamara." There was no handshake or anything of the sort, Dave merely stood there folding his arms.

"Please. Dougy. Name's Dougy."

"I'm Abbie Lawrence," the young woman added- going a length further than Dave and reaching out a hand to Dougy, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Dougy grinned, "Now... um... geez, I wasn't expecting people to actually raise interest so soon. As you no doubt know, we have a variety of positions available. What... er... what exactly do you guys want to do?"

"That depends," Dave lifted his shoulders to offer a shrug, "What's on the list?"

It was at that moment that Dougy gave an uncomfortable laugh. It seemed rather obvious to Steve that perhaps his friend had rushed out the gate just a little in his business venture, and was perhaps not quite up to speed on picking people with certain skills for certain jobs. Somebody had to help him out, or he was going to blow this whole thing wide open- or worse, have somebody doing a job they were completely unqualified for. Steve cleared his throat suddenly, then interjected quietly.

"So, er... what've you been doing recently, Dave?" Steve asked.

"Well, I've just moved here from South Africa. I've been in the army down there for the last five years."

"Cool. What'd you specialise in?"

"Electronics. Worked on a whole bunch of systems. They also gave me the standard training- you know, how to handle arms and all that- but my specialty was working on electronic systems."

"Electronic systems, eh?" Dougy's brow rose in curiosity. Finally, it looked like he was getting it!

"That's right, Dougy." Dave answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Would one of those electronic systems happen to be similar to, say, something a cake decorator would use?"

Oh dear God, he'd screwed that one up right and proper. All Dave could do was raise a brow in disbelief, forcing Steve's hand to once again help out his friend, forcing a sudden laugh.

"Oh, Dougy, you're a riot, mate. He's just kidding, Dave. But seriously, Dougy, you could use someone with that kind of skill. I mean, you're gonna have to install security systems in here. And a sound system. And some of the coffee machines are gonna need maintenance. And that's not getting into what happens if you turn upstairs into a club. Sounds to me like you could use somebody to fix all that up."

"That's true." Dougy finally caught on, turning to regard Dave, "Reckon you'd be up for it?"

"Shouldn't be too hard. I can definitely do some of that off instinct, and if trained up I reckon I could do the rest."

"Beautiful." With that, Steve's eyes tracked over towards Abbie, "Alright, what about you? What have you been doing?"

"Well, I've just got out of bartending school." she replied, "But before that, I used to work at a Starbucks as a barista- you know, preparing coffee and all of that."

"I don't think I even have to spell this one out for you, Dougy." Steve smirked.

"No, I don't think so at all." Dougy laughed, turning to face Abbie, "Alright then, Abbie. Tell ya what. I envisioned this place to start off as a combination cafe and bar. And I intend on making it that way in due time. What I'm gonna propose is that I offer you a split job. For now, I reckon we could use your... baristing skills. Yeah. Baristing is the word, I think." It wasn't of course, but Steve was prepared to let that slide, "But when the time comes to take this place to the bar level, I reckon I'd be happy to give you the opportunity to split time between the cafe and the bar. Or split 'em down the middle. It'll be your call at the time. Sound good?"

"I'm definitely interested," she answered with a radiant smile- a smile that was also spread to Steve, no doubt for his role in wrangling the deal.

"Awesome." Dougy grinned, "Well, tell you what, you two, I'm definitely interested in bringing you both on board. I'm sure SJ's getting bored with all this, so why don't we head on into my office..." Dougy motioned over his shoulder to a door behind the counter marked ''Storage". Dave and Abbie stared at each other dubiously for a moment, then both laughed awkwardly and nodded.

"Sure."

"Alright, Dougy."

"Cool. Step on in then, and I'll be with you in a second. Just gotta talk to SJ for a moment before heading inside."

"OK, cool." Abbie replied sweetly before making her way back to the bar, offering another smile to Steve, "See you at the opening, SJ?"

"You know it," Steve smirked.

"Just try not to destroy any of the new furniture, Bloodshed Champ. You didn't think I knew, did you?" Dave smirked at Steve knowingly before the two made their way over towards the door, slid it open, and stepped inside, leaving Dougy to grin at Steve.

"Cheers for the assist, mate. I'm new to the run-my-own-business thing."

"No worries. You pick up a few negotiating skills when you have to break contracts with federations. Although, weren't you the Director of Entertainment back in the Richards Conglomerate days?"

"Talia held my hand through the whole damn thing." Dougy smirked, "Still... looks like I might have a techie and a barista wrangled up- and all in one hit!"

"Heh. Sounds like your empire's growing by the second..." Steve smirked back at his friend.

"I know, mate, I know. Sounds to me like the two of us are doing pretty damn good in our own respective rights. Now let's just hope that continues, eh? You go take care of Julian, and I'll see if I can't get this place operational by this time next week. Sound like a deal?"

"Sounds good to me."

"To victory, then?" With a bright pearly grin, Dougy took a stubby of Budweiser out from under the counter, cracked it open, then raised it. Steve could only smirk, raise what was left of his flat white, and clink it up against Dougy's stubby.

"To victory."

[CONTINUED: Promo - The Undeniable Words #6, 31/3/08]

Now, you've no doubt seen what I can do. Or at least I certainly hope you have. I imagine the first thing you did when you heard about this match was go through Blind Fury and seeing just what I managed to do there in what was arguably my bigger win to date. Well, there's just one thing I'm going to say. Blind Fury was a match that utilized the... weaker talents out of my entire repertoire. Still won it, but arguably out of every field I have under my wing, hardcore fighting's my weakest. Blind Fury actually saw me doing something I very rarely do- fight on the back foot, in my weakest field, in an area I'm susceptible to damage in.

This time around... it's kinda the other way around. Technical has always been my strongest suit, and... well, let's just say that I'm no stranger to submissions. This time around, one could say that the fight's coming into one of my areas of expertise- and the onus is gonna be on you to try to take it to me in that domain. I've seen what you can do in the air, and how fast you are on your feet, and that's sure as hell not bad- but in the end, it's not gonna win you anything this time around, short of maybe knocking me down long enough to try to slap on a hold. Simply put, you have no choice- you have to engage me in mano-a-mano submission and technical-based combat. Is that something you can do? I'm not so presumptuous as to answer it, but I dare say it will be hard, because while I'm not quite an egomaniac, I will say that I'm damn good at the submission side of things.

Vindicator Deathlock. Might want to get familiar with that word, Julian Dark, because it might be being screamed over the announce table at one point that night. It's my key submission move, and ironically, it's one of the few moves in my repertoire that PDW hasn't seen yet. The S3? Been seen. Kobrakai Triplex? Seen. And hell, I seem to be busting out the Shinkansen every other match nowadays, but the Vindicator Deathlock hasn't been seen. What I can promise you is this- you're gonna know exactly what it is the second I lock it on. If I make you tap, there's a pretty high chance it's going to be with this.

What I suppose it comes down to in the end in matches like these is a battle of two things- pride and pain. Tapping out is... a humiliating experience by nature. It's not just losing a match, it's deliberately taking an action to say 'I can't take any more. You beat me'. No matter how realistic or down to earth a wrestler may be, tapping out wounds him. Cause every wrestler out there has a hell of a lot of pride, and that pride's compromised the second you submit. I have every belief that pride will play into this a hell of a lot. You won't want to admit you can't go on, and I won't want to admit I can't, and I imagine that he who has the most pride has a serious advantage in this match. And let me tell you, while I might not be your stereotypical 'angry at everyone else' man, I still have a hell of a lot of it.

Then there's pain. Even with pride in the equation, there's only so much a man can take. The human body has limits. It's kind of my thing to continually push at and extend those limits as much as I possibly can, but nevertheless the fact can't be denied that there are limits. Eventually, the pain wears down on a man, and it becomes almost too much to bear, and he snaps, and he taps. Hell, sometimes it's even worse. Sometimes a man might be able to fight through the pain, but it becomes apparent that if he takes much more, he's going to be injured and he's going to be put on the shelf if he doesn't give in. There are times when tapping out's essential to preserve one's very career.

I have no doubt that this match will eventually be determined by which man does the better job of keeping his pride on a higher level of importance than his pain. It will be based on who's going to be able to ignore and dull out that agony in the name of getting the job done and about keeping himself from submitting. Now, some people are automatically going to give that to you. They're going to see the Prodigy Championship and something of a big deal and they're going to assume you're going to have the skills. Others, probably a smaller number, are going to look at my skills in this particular field and assume that I'm going to win it. Some people have probably already made up their minds on how this is going to go before it even happens.

But really, you and I both know there's only one way to answer that question. And make no mistake, this Disclosure... I'm not going to answer the question. Oh, no. I plan on making you answer it for me.

And that... IS UNDENIABLE!