Written: 4/24
The Mercury camera crew was called over to Dean Wallace’s Tempe home by the Prime Example himself. Currently, Dean’s in the weight room, working out by himself. The freeze-out of Roderick Toombs isn’t personal, but it sure is intentional. After all, he’s the enemy at the next Fusion.
Still, Dean told Rod he was more than welcome to stay at his place while he continued to look for his own place in the greater Phoenix area. Rod’s having little luck finding something at a reasonable price that would offer him the ability to get to Tempe while not having to do too much navigating of the Valley’s Rube Goldberg-ian highway system. So he’s still at Casa Wallace, staying in the guest room. This has been quite the uncomfortable week, as you might imagine. Dean hasn’t said more than two words to his protégé, and Rod has done his best to avoid him all week.
But the camera crew is here, and Roderick’s the one to let them in.
RT: Didn’t know ya’ll were comin’. You got a bit ‘fore you go talk to Dean? There’s some stuff I wanna rap about real quick.
The crew obliges. Rather than set up, they simply press record, and Rod starts talking.
RT: Man, I can’t say I’m excited about this battle comin’ up. I’m taggin’ with two dudes who have kicked my ass pretty good in my career, so I know I’ve got a good team on my side an’ all. But the thing is, I hate both of ‘em. I hate ‘em ‘cause they got what I’m still fightin’ for – respect and glory in this business and this company. Don’t get me wrong – I got mad respect for Geoffrey and Blake. But I’m not excited ‘bout teamin’ with them ‘cause it’s pretty damn obvious they don’t have that same respect for me.
RT: Truth is, that goes for the three dudes we gotta face, too. Well, except Dean – he knows I’m a balla. But I don’t really think Harbinger and Akujin are all that impressed with me.
RT: So I’m goin’ into this match as the least accomplished of the six, which makes my objective simple. I gotta leave my mark, dawg. I ain’t gotta get the winning pin, or Keep It Crunk on all three opponents… naw, I just gotta hold my own with the best Mercury’s got to offer and show that I ain’t too far from bein’ right there with ‘em at the top. So I ain’t really got no pressure on me… and truth be told, considerin’ the people I’m taggin’ with think I’m an asshole, I could give a shit if we actually win, just as long as I’m not the guy gettin’ pinned. I just gotta show out and prove somethin’, and what better place to do it than the main event?
RT: So I ain’t really got nothin’ to lose, dawg. Everything to gain, though. And by the end of this match, e’e’body gonna know that Roderick Toombs IS that n*gga.
RT: That’s all I got. Dean’s downstairs… just don’t tell him I stopped ya’ll.
And with that, we see the camera crew move down to the workout room in the basement, the view bobbing along with every step. The camera crew knows where Dean’s at and they don’t have to look hard to find him. He’s seated on a chair in front of the wall outside the weight room, rocking a Phoenix Suns jersey (NASH 13, naturally) and cap, and staring daggers at the crew members.
DW: You assholes were supposed to be here 10 minutes ago.
The crew members shrug, but it’s clear that Dean isn’t really bothered. He’s just giving people crap for the sake of giving them crap.
DW: Alright… let’s get down to it.
DW: Harbinger, Jin Akujin… I don’t like either of you and I know the feeling is more than mutual. What I do like, more than anything else in this world aside from baseball and blondes with long legs, is winning. I want to win this match, boys, and I think we’ve clearly got the better team. Hell, the team with me on it is the better team, seeing as I’m the best tag team wrestler this company has ever seen.
DW: Look who’s on the other side. Geoff Slate doesn’t care about this match. Blake Grumann is clinically insane. And while I’ll ride for my boy Roderick, he’s clearly the weak link in this match… well, OK, he’s the weak link on their team. I still say he’s better than you, Jin.
DW: I really don’t feel like there’s a lot to worry about for my team. Harbinger’s the best thing going right now, and he’s got the strap to prove it. While Jin Akujin does suck, he does provide an element of speed. Then, there’s me… did I mention I’m the best tag team wrestler in this business? Oh, and there’s also the small matter of me being fresh and ready to kick some serious ass after that arrogant bastard Gabrielle turned my return match into the Messiah Show.
DW: A lot of people are going to wonder about the motivation of all six men that will enter the ring for this match. It’s going to be interesting. I know Harbinger and Jin won’t trust me to tag me in. I’m pretty sure the other three we’re facing would rather fight each other than against us. But all I want to do is win. I don’t care if I’m tagging with Idi Amin and Derek Jeter against the Care Bears. I want to win the f*cking match. I live to win, I bleed to win, and if it means slapping the hand of two of my worst enemies or smacking the shit out of my best friend to do it, then that’s what I’m going to do.
DW: I’m not sure the five other guys in this match are capable of that kind of motivation. But that’s their problem. Let them figure out what they need to figure out. I’ll be busy proving that the Prime Example is back and ready to reign supreme in this company again.
DW: Harby, Jin… let’s win the f*cking match. We can go back to hating each other after the final bell.
Dean nods, and the video feed cuts.
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