RP #9- "New York, New York"

[Promo - The Undeniable Words #9, 4/19/08]

Alright, let's just get it out of the way. Last Disclosure... didn't go according to plan.

Yep, OK, I lost. I can throw every excuse in the book out there, I can deny it and say that The Tank was the one who lost and conveniently ignore the '1' next to the '6' on my record, I can shrug it off as a fluke that wouldn't happen again, I can do a hundred stupid things that don't address the damn problem and just provide solace to myself, but I won't be doing that. Does it sting? Absolutely. How the hell couldn't it? One second you're undefeated, the next you're not. That always changes how you see yourself and how others see you, and absolutely, it's something that I'm not pleased about.

With that said, I'm not dwelling on it, and I'm not losing precious days- hours- minutes- in some kind of aggravated rage either denying the truth or blaming it on everybody who I feel might be the slightest bit responsibly. Simply put, I can't. Dishonorable Discharge is a little over a week away, and that will probably be barely enough time to prepare for this match as it is. So with that said, it's time to suck it up and move on to the battle at hand.

It's been... a long time since I was last in Madison Square Garden. That's right, this is not the first time I've been to the Garden. The last couple of times are irrelevant, but I still have a certain sense of what it's like to be fighting in there. It's mind blowing. One of the finest stadiums in one of the greatest cities in the world. Given that I come from a really small coastal strip, it's kind of the polaric opposite of where I started, and that's always had an effect on me. And in that stadium, I'll be defending my Bloodshed Championship.

In a Hard 10 Match, no less. Since The Jaxx so blithely stated he doesn't even know what he's getting into, I'll put him out of his misery and explain what it's generally accepted to be- points are awarded for the successful use of weapons and/or other hardcore actions that we'll be informed about before the match starts. First man to ten and getting a two-point margin above everyone else is the winner. Every instance I've heard of is against two men, so getting two points ahead of three other guys... should be interesting.

So I've got three others to deal with. Tank, I've already addressed once and have fought alongside, so I probably have a better sense of knowledge than the other two. Well, scratch that, everyone and his brother knows Nicholas Jaxx ever since his little... whatever the hell it was at Disclosure. And then there's Odd... and, well, let's just say from what I've seen so far, the name's pretty apt. That's no insult, that's just an observation. Now, I could pull a Jaxx here and blindly claim that all three guys don't stand a chance, but I don't have the valid excuse of being a complete and utter moron to fall back on for making that mistake. These guys aren't going to be pushovers. They've all demonstrated that in the last few weeks.

I'm gonna start where I left off last week. The Tank. Well, what can I say. I'm... disappointed the tag match didn't go the way it did the last week. The question's been asked of me a lot recently- 'hey, SJ, The Tank got pinned by Joseph St. John, therefore it's The Tank's fault that your streak came to an end. Do you want to make him pay and bleed through the nose for that?'. The same basic question's been asked in about a thousand different forms. Well... let's just say, that I have to at least give the man some credit for not jumping me and screwing us out of a win that way, or getting me pinned to send some kind of 'message' so he can crow on about ending the streak himself or anything like that. As it is, I can't heap all the blame on him as I couldn't stop the pin myself despite trying to. So no, there won't be any residual finger-pointing or blaming.

That said, it's not rainbows and lollipops, Tank. I did pretty much warn you that once the tag match was out of the way, the war was on- and that's essentially the truth now. Consider the statement I made to Jaxx and Odd to apply just as equally to yourself- all formalities have been suspended, all non-aggression agreements that might have been in place prior to our tag match are now null and void. You now shift from tag team partner to hostile target, and that means I get to use any and all methods necessary to bring you down.

The tag match probably wasn't a complete failure in that I think we both came out knowing a little more about how each other work. It's one thing to watch on a monitor, it's another to be there in person. Unfortunately, I also got to see how you were defeated- which you cannot quite say about me. I'm no Joseph St. John, and I doubt I'm big enough to hit a Now That's Gangsta, but nevertheless, the basic fundamental is there- I got a preview of just how much punishment it'll take to put you down. And there are certain moves I have that have the same result as his, whether they be from one hit or whether they be from over time. Of course, this comes down to points and not pinfalls and so it's a slightly different ballpark, but hey, you can't score points if you're down and out the same way you would be to get a pinfall.

Yes, you're the biggest man in this contest- by far. But that size differential has never stopped me before- and let's face it, it doesn't matter an awful lot when you've got the right weapon handy. After all, a tank- for all its heavy armor and God knows how much firepower- can be busted by one guy who's not even that physically impressive with a big enough freakin' gun on his shoulder. We've all seen it on the news, we all know it happens. For what you've got in size, I've got in reflex speed and knowing exactly when and where to strike. Am I saying that means you haven't a chance? No, not at all, but know damn well that being 'The Tank' doesn't mean squat in the match. Cause if I have it my way, I'll be that one man with the RPG in just the right spot.

Think about it, Tank. You saw how I took the fight to Joseph St. John despite the size differential. Hell, you saw how I nearly freakin' had him. Could easily be you, and could easily be more than nearly had him.

[MAIN STORY]

DATE/TIME: 9:30AM, Saturday April 19, 2008
LOCATION: Madison Avenue, Manhattan, New York City

Steve Jason had never actually gone back home after Disclosure.

He'd already made the decision to leave for New York as soon as possible and had already packed, so it was only a matter of making a few phone calls to get his gear picked up, loaded into his car at the Spectrum, and after making a few rendezvous calls with the Sunset Crew, had taken off out of Philadelphia in the dead of night, headed straight for the Big Apple itself. No dwelling on it, no wasting precious seconds in the past- just heading straight into the scene of Dishonorable Discharge itself, and leaving the... somewhat embarrassing memories of his winning streak coming to an end behind him.

And thus, there he was in New York City. Steve had been to big cities before- more than a few, actually. Even Sydney and Melbourne had seemed like ultrametropolitan juggernauts compared to the west coast suburbs in Perth that Steve had emerged from, but even those were nothing compared to the big ones- Tokyo, Shanghai, London, Paris, Mumbai, Chicago, Los Angeles... and then, sitting right at the top of the Pyramid of Massive Freakin' Cities was New York itself. Steve had been there three or four times in the past, but he still couldn't get his head around just how colossal it was. Star had been right- PDW was heading big-time in a major way just by showing up as a highlight in this city.

Steve wasn't even going to waste his time getting around the entire city while he was here. That was impossible. And thus it was that he was carefully picking and choosing the places he visited- and today, that happened to be the borough of Manhattan- to be completely precise, they were in none other than the iconic Madison Avenue itself. It was early morning over New York City- not that Steve could really soak in the sun, as the buildings of Manhattan provided him with almost continual, uninterrupted shade. As with just about most of Manhattan, the entire place was colossal urban sprawl of the highest order- and they'd just managed to make their way into the 'up-market' side of Madison Avenue, decked out with all kinds of expensive-looking stores, fashion chains, jewellery stores and more. The crowd seemed to match that- office workers, well-to-do looking people, and of course, hordes upon hordes of 'it' girls out to stare longingly at the items on display. 

"We're gonna regret this, Steve..." Douglas Henry McNamara III predicted with a sour look on his face as he strode along the part of the sidewalk closest to the road, accompanied by his older brother Marcus 'Stretch' McNamara, and none other than Steve Jason himself. The three long-time friends strode in a straight along the side of Madison Avenue, decked out accordingly- Dougy in a black-and-yellow bowling shirt and jeans, Stretch in a gray sweater and jeans, and Steve in relatively casual attire- black light jacket, red Piping Hot surf t-shirt, denim jeans and skate shoes, a pair of black Arnette Rage sunglasses lodged over his eyes.

"Huh? I really don't see how..." Steve replied, "The chick wanted to go to Madison Avenue, so we went to Madison Avenue. Figured we could all use the walk anyway."

"I think what my esteemed brother is getting at..." Stretch chuckled, "...is that we're not going to be walking at a very fast pace. Not with Kate along for the ride."

"That's right! She was an it girl back home, remember? And Madison Avenue's pretty much Glamor Girl Central. We're not gonna be able to walk fifteen bloody feet without her dragging her heels at the latest Chanel Gucci whatchamacallit. You watch."

As the discussion seemed to indicate, the men were not alone. Trailing a little behind them was one Kate Hawking, decked out in a green... Steve didn't actually know the term... one of those short dresses girls were wearing nowadays that they tended to wear white blouses under- and true to Dougy's word, she was hanging back out the front of some kind of boutique jewellery store, her dark eyes rapt on some white-gold chain on a display mannequin head in the store. Steve's eyes, on the other hand, were staring in disbelief at the "$2000" price tag beneath it.

"Jesus Christ, you can pawn any old piece of junk off for anything nowadays..." he muttered.

"Eh?" Stretch blinked in confusion.

"Two grand. That thing she's staring at is two grand."

"How the hell can you read that? I can see the necklace- barely- but I can't see the tag."

"I dunno. Eye for detail, I guess. Kind of have to have it in the ring." Steve offered a scarcely perceptible shrug, "She's... er... she's eventually gonna try to catch up with us, isn't she?"

"Oh, probably, but we could be halfway to Brooklyn by then."

"Oh, bugger this, I'll just make it easy..." The irritated Dougy cupped his hands to his mouth and suddenly bellowed in a voice that almost made half the passers-by jump out of their suits, "Oh, KAITLYN! Get your arse into gear, will you?"

"They probably heard that in Brooklyn too." Steve observed dryly.

With a slightly irritated roll of her eyes, Kate nevertheless moved away from the window with a toss of her dark mane of hair, quick-stepping to catch back up with the crew, "Sorry, sorry. Just got distracted..."

"We noticed." Steve chuckled, "Well, it's nice to see somebody's at least enjoying the whole 'New York, New York' thing."

"I've been living in Perth and on the Coast my whole life, Steve..." she noted, "A few days ago I went from that to America, and now I'm here in a city that's ten times the size of Perth- that has ten times the people and God knows how much more stuff. Of course I'm enjoying it! This might just be the coolest street I've ever seen..."

An agonized groan escaped Dougy at that.

"Let's just keep walking..." Steve suggested, "Please?"

"Sure, but can we take a second out to take a look at something when we pass it later on?" Kate asked sweetly, "There's this one store I've really been wanting to go to for years, now, and I..."

"Oh my God!" Dougy groaned.

"Does it really bother you that much, Dougy?" Stretch asked mildly.

"Yes! Cause it's annoying..." Dougy replied, "I mean, seriously, can't the girl go for five seconds before stopping to stare at something pretty? It's irksome and I would never do that and ohmygod it's a hot dog stand! Can we get a hot dog? Can we can we can we?"

Steve, Kate and Stretch simply stared at each other, dumbfounded by the hypocrisy of their friend- who, sure enough, was staring in adulation at a simple hot dog cart set up on the sidewalk, manned by a middle-aged man clad in a red and blue shirt, white apron and a short, pointed hat.

"What was that you said about going for five seconds without staring at something?" Steve remarked casually.

"Ah, shut up! Can we get a hot dog or can't we?" Dougy didn't even wait for an answer, scooting over towards the cart at full speed and proceeding to order with what seemed to be unbridled enthusiasm, causing the vendor himself to look more than a tad amused as he served him. Steve merely chuckled and shook his head.

"Grab us some cokes, will you, Dougy?" Steve called after Dougy, then motioned over towards a couple of benches that had been set up along the edge of the sidewalk. Steve, Stretch and Kate made their way over towards it, lowering themselves down- Kate in an at least slightly casual, dignified way, while Steve and Stretch just threw themselves down. Dougy passed by next, hot dog in one hand and juggling a stack cans in the other, which he abruptly threw to each.

"Hey, I've been meaning to broach this, but I guess I don't really know how to without upsetting you..." Kate began tentatively, causing raised brows from Dougy and Stretch, "...are you OK, Steve? I mean, you had a pretty bad night Thursday and you haven't really said much to anybody about it."

"I walked out of Disclosure under my own power and didn't have anybody jump me." Steve observed, "Given what happened to Odd, I'd consider myself lucking out that night.

"That's not what I meant, and I think you know that..." She turned her head and locked onto Steve's ice-blue eyes with her own dark eyes, "You had a flawless record and a reputation for being unstoppable before Thursday. Now the former's gone and the latter's been damaged because of your partner. I know that has to hurt."

Of course, she wasn't wrong.

"My pride, you mean?" Steve guessed, "Yeah. It's taken a hit. It couldn't not have. The whole 'unstoppable' rep was a... nice thing to have, and to lose it without even having much to say about it myself was... well, disappointing. But I can't just dwell on it. I don't have time and I can't afford the demoralization. It happened, it sucks, but I have to move on and save face at the PPV. That might salvage something."

"Alright, just so long as you're sure. The second you're not, I can talk, kay?"

"Alright, alright, I'll take that under advisement. But I'm fine, really." Steve laughed, shaking his head in amusement, "Geez, all this concern is... refreshing."

"I take care of my friends." Kate shrugged, offering an small smile Steve's way, "But if you say you're fine, that's cool."

"All things considered, I'm quite surprised at how calm you are." Stretch observed, taking a pause from the demolition of his Coke, "I mean, did you see what that Jaxxster guy was saying about you on the TV? Not exactly nice stuff. People have started smashes in bars for that sort of thing."

"Eh. Nicholas Jaxx is an idiot." Steve shrugged.

"But did you hear half the shit he was saying, mate?" Dougy intervened, stressing the term 'saying', "I mean, you'd be in a right mind to completely be going off your trolley after all the stuff he's said. Why aren't you?"

"Cause he's an idiot." Steve repeated his point, "Besides, what's the point of wasting all that emotion now? Better to wait until Steve's Thoughts, and coldly and calmly put the moron in his place." A wry smirk crossed his face, "I think he'll be in for a very nasty surprise when I systematically slice him to bits. I think he's taken one look at the whole honor code thing, and noted I tend not to rip into people without provocation, and reckons he'll be able to mouth off without getting something back. I reckon it might be time to remind him of just how wrong he is- and remind people that 'not without provocation' doesn't mean 'lie down and take it'."

"For some reason, SJ, I don't really see you as the 'fuck this, fuck that, fuck you, fuck the world' kind of person..." Stretch observed.

"Don't have to be. Like I said, he's an idiot. I'll just highlight that fact for all to see."

"Right... um... moving right along..." Kate didn't get much further, as suddenly her phone piped up with the tune of 'Outta My Head' by Ashlee Simpson- which one again caused Dougy to roll his eyes in disgust. She flipped open her phone and took a look at the screen- obviously a text message or something. After studying it for a moment, she spoke.

"That was Sergei. It looks like he's been talking to some of his Russian friends in Brooklyn. Seems that they want to meet his new friends. There's something going on in a few days time, some kind of Russian multicultural thing over in somewhere called Brighton Beach. You know it, Steve?"

"Never actually been. Apparently quite Eastern European-centric, though." Steve shrugged.

"Figured. Anyway, he's going to be there, and some of his friends will be there. He definitely wants some of the Sunset Crew there. What do you guys think?"

"Well, old Sergei satisfied me he was trustworthy." Dougy shrugged, "Don't see why we can't swing on by. And besides, I need an excuse to drink copious amounts of vodka and this may just be it."

"I'll see how we go. I might have a few things set up myself..." Stretch shrugged, "If not, I'm sure you guys can get along without me."

"Cool. Steve, are you coming?"

That would be... a tough question. Steve would only have a few weeknights free in New York. Despite the fact he was in the biggest city in the world, arguably with the most stuff going on, the fact remained that he wasn't there for a holiday. He wasn't there to see the sights and sounds of the town. For most of the time, he'd be forced to isolate himself from the city in some musty old basement somewhere, committing himself to swinging weapons around, reading God knows how many combat manuals, watching tape after tape after tape, and working out the best way to spill a man's blood all over the place.

Those were the sacrifices that came with being part of the PDW- and about being in contention for a brutal, bloody, highly-competitive title that a few months ago people wouldn't have even thought Steve was capable of holding. It meant that he had to budget his time carefully. If he was to take up this meeting with Sergei, that would have meant one less night out in New York down the drain. It might have been his only night. But still, Sergei had risked a hell of a lot to help Steve and Dougy and reunite the crew... and Steve owed him that much. And besides, Dougy and Kate were going, so it only stood to reason that he would need to as well. And so, he made the answer.

"Sure thing."

[CONTINUED: Promo - The Undeniable Words #9, 4/19/08]

That brings me to you, Odd.

What can I say, I have to at least give you some credit on quite possibly having the most accurate ring-name of anybody I've ever fought. Most people adopt some ridiculous moniker like 'Darkside' or something similar that's intended to be awe-inspiring but doesn't really match the person all that much. But I'll say yours gets you right down to a tee. From what I've seen and what I've observed, 'Odd' actually fits you pretty damn well. That ain't an insult, that's an observation.

And interestingly enough, after going through some of your previous words, it looks like I might actually have the chance to face somebody who may actually be a psychological wrestler. That's interesting in itself, because... well, usually I'm the only one. I don't normally end up on the other end of the psychology game, but after you played that card with Nicholas Jaxx and succeeded in winding him up, I have to admit that I'm kinda... interested to see exactly what you'd gonna make of me. I'm actually quite curious to hear what you're going to make of me. Are you gonna pull the same 'order' card you pulled on Jaxx? Or something else?

What I will say, is that I doubt it will be as easy this time around to figure me out. Let's just flat out admit it, Nicholas Jaxx is a simple-minded man. Pickling his brains should be freakin' easy. Child's play. I'm smarter than he is. I'm more mentally complex. And furthermore, I'm not a complete moron, which'll make me a tougher nut to crack. Could you do it? Well, if I had to guess, I reckon you'd get roughly fifty percent right, and fifty percent way off. Not bad... but not exactly something I'd want to rely on at the same time.

Actually, even if you were a hundred percent right, I wouldn't be relying on that method completely. Honest truth is, Odd, I'm getting the impression that's your primary method of getting into your opponents' head and figuring out a battle plan. Which means that essentially, all I've got to do to throw you off balance and regain some kind of tactical advantage would be to simply think differently. Easy task? No, it's not, but I know it has to be done sometimes when the situation requires it. If I have reason to suspect you're going to rely on my state of mind and my thought patterns, then I have to do everything I can to shake them up. And that may just be what I need to get around you, because if you're relying on a solid thought pattern for me... well, then, you're going to have to change your plans fast.

Some might wonder if revealing that plan might be a mistake. I mean, now that you know I might do it, you're gonna have time to re-think, right? Well, to be honest... I kinda doubt it. Fact is, you won't know what I'm gonna be doing until I get in there, no matter what I say. And that's what might just be needed to win this fight. Whoever can take his opponent by the most surprise, who can get around his opponent's expectations, is in a serious position to win.

What can I say? So far, you've faced predictable idiots, Odd. Now it's time for you to face a true tactician. It should be... intriguing.

Speaking of predictable idiots, that brings me to one Nicholas Jaxx. And I've just gotta say... dear, oh dear. What a freakin' trainwreck that first promo he decided to launch was. Usually I've got to wait until after I've done my talking for someone to say their piece, but Jaxx went straight out the gate. And by that, I mean he clearly came up with something while he was still on god knows how much acid, and proceeded to publish what's no doubt the biggest piece of retardary on the airwaves, obviously without consulting anyone, as anyone with half a brain would have immediately told him 'Look, Nicole, you publish this and nobody in this fed's going to take you seriously again'.

And you wonder why nobody does, Nikki? You don't mind if I call you Nikki? How about Nicola? Well, tough, cause that's what you're being called, little man. Seriously, it's quite obvious that last week you and Pete Ebdon started some lame little club that nobody other than you two give a rat's arse about due to the sole reason that apparently nobody's giving you enough respect or whatever. By that, you probably mean that nobody's that impressed by you that they won't immediately bow and kiss your goddamn feet as soon as you enter the arena.

It's actually... nothing new, you know. You think you're starting some kind of revolutionary new idea by waving around the 'nobody's taking me seriously, so I'm gonna rebel and cause havoc and ruin the shows and everyone's gonna worship me as a god by the time I'm through', but the truth of the matter is I've seen this happen about twenty times all over the world. Wanna know how every single one of those 'let's form a group and cause trouble to make ourselves be taken seriously' groups have ended, Jaxx? All failed. And to be quite frank, I see nothing special about you or about Pete Ebdon to except you from the rule.

Anyway. Time to actually deal with the subject matter at hand for tonight. Truth be told, I could probably verbally crucify you just based on how you act outside of a promo- or hell, I could not even bother and have you verbally defeat yourself for me- but I'm gonna go with it, because hell, it's just that much more fun to highlight your stupidity for all to see.

Let me ask you something, Nicola. Did you invent the word 'fuck'? Cause you sure do have an obsession over it. I'm not offended, and I'm hardly going to demand you censor yourself cause I don't really care, but do you really think you look all that hard by proclaiming it every five seconds? Congratulations, you discovered the F-Bomb, like two decades after everybody else your age. I'm so happy and overjoyed for you, really, but you've gotta let it go, lest you come out looking like a retard. OK, OK, I'm sorry- even more like a retard. Everyone on this planet knows that a well-placed 'fuck' can make something just that much more hilarious or dramatic, but using it every five seconds kinda kills the value of the word. Unless your name is Samuel L. Jackson, it's not cool, it's just sad.

And what was the next line of genius? Not about honor, but about sin? Yeah, I heard that one before, Jaxx. I heard that one right before I took the Bloodshed Championship. Odds are against me, situation I can't control, situation that favors seasoned hardcore veterans which I'm not, blahblahblah. You're like a walking replay of every person who I so much as spoke to prior to Blind Fury. Let me ask you this- do you know anything about the previous champ and how many people said it was going to be a freakin' bloodbath that I'd be on the wrong end of because 'I wasn't hardcore enough'? I don't think you even looked into that. You just looked at someone who's been in matches with stipulated rules since you dragged your sorry carcass in here, and assumed that it's somehow going to be a given in this match that I'm not going to be as 'sinful' as you are- and citing absolutely nothing to back it up. And you want to talk to me about having my head up my arse?

Hah! You might wanna take a good, long, hard look in the mirror before you make that claim, little man. Cause let's face it, if there's anybody in this match who's shown serious signs of living in some kind of dreamworld, it's you! I mean, how else can you explain you pretty much shrugging off everything I did in the last couple of months down to luck. Luck. Yeah, I've heard that one before. Thank you for recycling weeks of PDW color commentary, Jaxx, I'm sure we appreciated the flashback. Reggie Stallworth said it was 'luck' too- every single week, as I recall. But even he learned the truth of it in the end. Last Disclosure, that man finally realised I was for real. Didn't have to coerce him, didn't have to confront him, just had to ram the truth in his face over and over and over again until he finally got it.

Fact is, Jaxx, if you're preparing for that match and all you're envisioning is some 'lucky' guy who's somehow fluked his way past the Platinum and Prodigy Champs and who it took two months to get a loss on his name- and he wasn't even the one who was pinned, but it must have been a fluke for him to get that far anyway, you're going to be in prime position for me to clobber you. Cause as much of a nimrod as you appear to be, I'm still gonna take you at face value and assume you have some credibility in the ring. That's what makes me different from you- and that's why I'm going to run rings around you if you don't start realising the damn fact. You won't know what you're dealing with until it's too late- because believe me, I don't allow room for mistakes.

Seems to me, Jaxx, that you're living in an illusion. Probably to protect yourself. The entirety of your promo screams that- a dreamworld, some kind of imaginary dealy that you've probably thought up to dismiss your shortcomings and pretend they don't exist rather than actually face them like a real man would. In your little dreamworld, Nicholas Jaxx is the undisputed, underrated man, and everyone else is so obviously wrong. You've surrounded yourself with illusions, while the rest of us live and fight in the real world, cause you can't deal with the cold, hard reality that most of the rest of us take by the horns and fight against.

Unfortunately, Nicola, illusions are made to be shattered, and I'm gonna have no qualms shattering yours. Hell, I think I might enjoy it.

 And that... IS UNDENIABLE!