Post by Sentinel on Sept 18, 2015 21:08:19 GMT -6
It's a scene not unfamiliar to those who have been following the build-up to the World Heavyweight Championship match at UWA's Raising Hell pay-per-view: the classy-looking set, the chairs and sofa, the coffee table with real water and fake flowers...it's just as Vince Jones left it after his brief yet acerbic conversation with Josh Thurman for the Wrestling After Hours web show. The host himself isn't on stage though, shown off to the side at the make-up table getting primped for his second interview in as many days. There's a number of others milling about: a few fellows checking the cables and connections, the lady tending to the host's coiffure and even a caterer. Josh is visibly tense as he stares into the mirror for a moment, a brief pause from going through his notes. He's speaking more to himself than to the stylist, but still...
Josh Thurman: "I don't know if this is a good idea. Jones was less than agreeable and now I have to deal with his opponent, knowing that he's seen what Vince said? I'm freakin' doomed..."
The dark-haired, middle-aged woman pauses in her combing and styling to glance toward the mirror and the host's reflection, then turns back to her work.
Josh Thurman: "I mean, I've seen this guy lately. He treats interviewers like chew toys. And he's gotta be coming in here pissed. Maybe I oughta make some excuse about being sick..."
Stylist "And miss the payday coming with all this? You're a professional, Mr. Thurman. That's not what you do."
The hapless journalist returns his gaze to the woman who is already back to work on making him presentable. Meanwhile, our attention is redirected towards the green room, such as it is, where the World Heavyweight Champion himself sits on a plush sofa, his gorgeous wife pacing back and forth before him while speaking on her cell phone. He's a few days removed from his first defense of his championship, a title that rests beautifully over his silk-covered shoulder. He's about to offer a rebuttal to some very pointed words from a motivated opponent in Vince Jones, someone he's tangled with more than once. Indeed the weight of the world is on the Destroyer's shoulders...
...yet he looks far more interested in watching his wife walk back and forth. Unabashedly, he stares at the woman's legs in motion, looking as though she were poured into those leather pants to say nothing of the corset-style top and flared jacket she's wearing above. Every step click thanks to the heels of those knee-high boots, too. That body demands attention...even if that attention should be elsewhere. In fact, Talon, finishing her call, points this out quick-fast upon seeing where Sentinel's eyes are. There's no hiding that she likes the attention, though.
Talon: "Mind on business, handsome. We're on in less than five and unless you're planning on responding to Jones by telling him how long my legs are..."
Gray eyes flick from Talon's toned stems to her face and Sentinel cuts a smirk almost on the level of a Donavan. When she lifts a red brow he shrugs and relaxes.
Sentinel: "Worried?"
Talon: "Were you watching the same thing I was? Your temper, sweetheart..."
Canting his head a bit, the champion gives Talon a gaze that's equal parts curious and incredulous. She's set to continue but instead goes quiet. He shakes his head slightly.
Sentinel: "It's under control. Justification has been given for anything I choose to say or do at this point. Besides..."
Rising, he takes her hand in his, the black silk shirt resting well against his form above black jeans...more than enough to get a lady's heart pumping.
Sentinel: "You'll be out there with me."
Nodding in agreement, the two turn in tandem as a stagehand pokes his head in, telling them they're on in two. Sentinel gestures that he understands and returns his attention to his wife.
Sentinel: "Time to hammer in the final nail."
Flashing her own predatory smile, Talon slides her arm within Sentinel's and walks out of the room with him. Mere moments after the scene goes black, we get the requisite montage and theme to Wrestling After Hours before shifting to Josh Thurman standing mid-set. If any tension lingers in the man, it's nowhere to be seen now as he stands ready to greet the fans.
Josh Thurman: "Welcome again, fans, to Wrestling After Hours! Last time we had the pleasure of speaking with the number one contender to the UWA World Heavyweight Championship, but tonight...we're talking with the champion himself! Please give a warm welcome to, accompanied by his wife and manager Talon, the UWA World Heavyweight Champion...SENTINEL!"
"The Sentinel" by Celldweller plays in the background as the camera is adjusted slightly, taking in the sight of Sentinel and Talon walking up to the set. There's no snubbing this time; when Josh offers his hand, it's shaken by both Talon and the champion...though the champ's natural grip causes minor discomfort. It's unintentional of course, and Josh gestures to the sofa whereupon all three sit, the latter taking the armchair.
Josh Thurman: "Welcome, both of you. Pleasure to have you on the show."
Talon: "Likewise."
The champion's response is a nod and Josh settles forward a bit. Some of the tension is back but he's trudging onward regardless of it. Sentinel takes note of this but says nothing at the moment, allowing the host to dive right in without interruption.
Josh Thurman: "I'm certain the both of you saw my interview with Vince Jones recently. Your challenger for Raising Hell had some pointed words for you, champ, so let's get down to business and get your thoughts on his message."
Sentinel: "Fire away. That's why we're here, after all: to set the story straight."
Talon: "No revisionist history on our watch."
Shuffling his notes a bit, chuckling nervously as he finds his starting point.
Josh Thurman: "Vince said, quite plainly, that he's tired of being asked how he feels stepping in the ring with you, Sentinel, for that championship over your shoulder. He perhaps feels that people should be asking you the same question, that the awe should come from your side and not his. Thoughts?"
Cracking a half-smile, Sentinel fixes his gray stare on the host.
Sentinel: "Deflection, Josh."
Josh Thurman: "...deflection?"
Sentinel: "Jones takes that as a sign of disrespect. He's facing the World Heavyweight Champion, fighting for a title he's never held. He's main-eventing a pay-per-view in a marquee match for the first time in a long time. If that doesn't make a man nervous, maybe make him a little shaky on the inside, then he's not cut out for this business."
Josh Thurman: "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at."
Sentinel: "The day you don't get the butterflies standing behind that curtain, waiting for your music to hit and getting yourself ready mentally to tear into an opponent and put on a show doing it...that's the time when you're done in this business. Same as when you think you know it all like Jones sometimes sounds like he thinks HE does. If you know it all, what are you still doing here? Time to take a hike. There's nothing left for you in the wrestling business. Vince knows, especially after his performances recently, that he's not as ready as he thinks to take me on. He remembers me drilling him into the canvas a while back because that's not the kind of sensation that lets go easily. He sees, now, that I've moved to a whole new level of prowess also as this belt clearly indicates. So...he tries to claim that people should be questioning my nonexistent awe of him to try and obscure the fact that he's scared gutless that this will be a repeat of last time. And he damn well SHOULD be afraid of that."
The host looked as though he were expecting another answer entirely but gets back to his notes in short order. Talon smiles thinly herself.
Talon: "He's always had that air, like he's king of the yard and everyone should be kissing his boots. But until you're on top of the mountain with that gorgeous hunk of gold and jewels on your shoulder?"
She points to the championship.
Talon: "You're still climbing."
Josh Thurman: "Fair point. Since you spoke up though, Talon, there was a point in the interview when Jones mentioned you more or less directly, stating that he'd offer, um...consolation...to you after he defeats Sentinel for the title."
The scene pauses and fades on that point, shifting to the personal bus of Sentinel that he uses most of the time to go between shows. He has a laptop open on his lap as he sits on one of the wall-mounted couches, the voice of Vince Jones unmistakable as it blares through the speakers. Talon walks up a few moment later, sitting and watching alongside him. Both find the piece amusing, apparently, and still do after the laptop is drawn shut.
Talon: "What do you think?"
Sentinel: "I think I want you to call this Josh guy and set up some time for us."
Talon: "Oh yeah?"
Sentinel: "Ain't no ignoring this, baby. Vince wants to open this door? I'm gonna kick it down in his face."
Licking her red lips in anticipation, Talon rises with phone in hand, already searching for the website and the phone number to go along with it. Sentinel, meanwhile, stares out the window with a smile tugging at his pale lips. And then we're back to the interview as though we'd never left, with the question of Vince's "offer" to Talon still up in the air. Sitting and staring at the host, Sentinel stares silently while one of Talon's brows goes up. The couple exchange glances, becoming stern of expression, then turn back to the host. Josh is ready to quail, perhaps run for the hills, when they start laughing uproariously. It's a couple seconds long, but it offers a little relief to Josh which he sorely needed.
Sentinel: "Consolation, huh? Josh, look at this woman sitting next to me right now. Do you know who that is?"
Getting the feeling that the question was rhetorical, Josh simply nods.
Sentinel: "THAT is the Angel of Sin, Talon. She's held more than a couple championships in this business and has whipped men bigger and badder than Jones in her day. Not to mention she's one of the hottest women on the planet. Look closely now...then look at Vince Jones. Look at how he talks, what he represents and everything else that makes him whatever the hell he is."
The champion leans in as Talon, despite herself, flushes slightly.
Sentinel: "They wouldn't let someone like him into her neighborhood, Josh. I don't blame Vince for lusting. Half the planet lusts when this vision walks down the ramp with me. But does he think he's doing anything different by talking that kind of smack? Does he think that's going to get under my skin or Talon's? We get it. It's sour grapes. Forgive the arrogance, but look at what he surrounds himself with and look at who walks by my side. It goes back to what I've already said while promoting this match over the last two weeks: Vince doesn't think before he speaks. He has nothing to offer in terms of logical reasons as to how he'll beat me and take my title, so he resorts to smack talk like usual."
Talon: "There's only one man on the planet capable of earning my love and respect while at the same time carrying the top title in the UWA. And you're looking at him. Pining away after a real woman is apparently Vince's idea of getting ready for the biggest match of his career, though. It's not a new approach and until sense is beaten into every poor soul who walks that particular mental road...it's just something we'll have to deal with."
Nodding, Josh switches cards.
Josh Thurman: "That sort of carries me into my next question, champ: Vince took few direct shots at you, but one of the pointed ones concerned the UWA Owner, Olivier Georgio. He didn't say so directly, but..."
Sentinel: "...but he tried to paint the picture that I'm just doing the boss's bidding or something like that. That's what you're trying to say."
Josh Thurman: "W-Well, I, ah, wouldn't presume..."
Sentinel: "Whoa, easy, Josh..."
The champion makes a calming gesture with a hand before continuing. Josh seems utterly relieved.
Sentinel: "Vince has no idea what respect is. I have a ton of respect for Olivier. How could I not for the man who personally sought me out and signed me to the UWA and who afforded me the opportunity to get to where I am now despite the wrongs I've done? Olivier gave me the hand up and now I'm returning the favor by representing his company and trying to take it to a new level. Vince wants to think that I'm just licking the boss-man's boots because, again, he's looking for excuses. And, again, that's to be expected. I've beaten the hell out of him before in tag and singles matches and he knows I'm even more capable of doing it now than I was before.
At this point, almost everything he's said to and toward me in the lead-up to this match has been a variation of the same Vince Jones rhetoric the world grew tired of months ago. Same jive-talk, same old song and dance. Hell, if you just listened to him? How the hell would you know the enormity of this match and what it represents for the future of the UWA one way or the other?"
Talon: "It's fear. The same fear that Vince used to put in the hearts of his opponents, now turned upon the man himself. He can't deal with it. We understand."
Not totally sure what to make of this, Josh nevertheless pushes on.
Josh Thurman: "Well, let's talk about the man himself. He referred to himself as a beast, saying he's on a whole other level than you and everyone else. He does what he does, to paraphrase, because it's what he wants to do."
Sentinel: "That I believe."
Talon: "Didn't say what kind of beast, though, did he?"
Josh Thurman: "Well, what would you equate it to?"
Sentinel: "A hyena, Josh. Hell of a bite, nasty disposition despite the 'laughing', but little more than a low scavenger picking the bones of the kills of greater predators. He thinks he's some kind of uncontrollable, all-consuming force that's going to run through me and everyone else in the UWA but lets not forget that not more than a month ago he was running from a match with, of all people, Bob Brooks. Don't misunderstand my meaning because Brooks is a hell of a wrestler when he's motivated and not focused on being a creepy little bastard, but he's barely gotten his feet wet here. Jones should have, if history tells true, tore through him like a steamroller running over a sleeping bag full of cranberries.
And yet...he ran. Took the count-out. And this is the man who wants to be the top champion in the UWA? That's who we're supposed to know and fear as the baddest man on the block?"
Talon: "Pitiful."
Sentinel: "I've never run from a fight in my life. Didn't matter how many there were against me or what they were packing...whether I had my friends at my back or if I was all alone. I put my head down and charge anything that's in front of me, trying to take what's mine. Win or lose, the sonofabitch opposing me is going to feel the effects of a war with the Destroyer for a long damn time after the fact."
Josh Thurman: "It's easy to see you think little of Jones. But it didn't used to be that way. Back during your first one-on-one encounter you professed something in the way of respect for the man you're facing again this Sunday. What happened?"
Sentinel: "He started to swallow too much of his own hype. He became a caricature of the kind of person that I loathe: those who would rather talk than act, who would rather spew bullshit from a safe distance than get in close and take as good as they give. Ducking challenges and running away from fights is no way to earn or keep respect, Josh. If I were going that road in this, I'd point out everyone who's beaten his ass and make fun of him for dropping his belt to a woman. I can be just as insulting and abrasive as anyone else but what would that prove? What purpose would it serve? No, I'd rather make my point in the ring. And I'm doing just that come Sunday night."
Josh Thurman: "That makes sense, I think."
The brief lull gives us a moment to go back in time again, this time to more recently...as in just before the interview. Josh is up and pacing, the stylist still nearby as she puts away her things. But she can't helping looking at the interviewer with matronly concern.
Josh Thurman: "I mean, I had to fight to get Jones to sign for the show, but...Sentinel requested this! Rather, his wife did...but even so! How do I know he isn't coming here to do to me what he almost does to Thumper in the UWA?! What if he blames me for what Jones was saying?!"
Stylist: "You worry too much."
Josh Thurman: "Impending doom makes me nervous! I admit it!"
Clicking her tongue, the woman gives Josh a prod with the business end of a hairbrush, damn near making him jump out of his skin.
Stylist: "You've been doing this a while, no? You have every intention of being professional, right?"
Josh Thurman: "Of course, but...!"
She gives him that look that every mother, whether it's their kid or not, has. It shuts a person down almost involuntarily.
Stylist: "Then stop worrying. Do what you do. You might surprise yourself...and them."
The woman walks out of sight and Josh, still having to swallow a lump in his throat, nods and tries to steel himself. Back into the interview again, Josh seems far more relaxed than he had. He's settled back into his chair, ready to fire off another question or two.
Josh Thurman: "There has to be some concern as to what will happen if you lose, champ. Vince doesn't travel alone as you well know. No one is questioning Talon's prowess, but you're still likely to be outnumbered..."
Sentinel: "And don't think I haven't thought about that, Josh. Rest assured, I'm prepared for Jones and his posse."
Josh Thurman: "Care to elaborate on that?"
Sentinel: "Nope."
Talon: "Come now, don't you like surprises, Josh?"
With her winking and Sentinel grinning, Josh figures that they have a point and leaves it at that as a smile of his own sneaks out. Despite himself, he's calming down...maybe even enjoying himself at this point.
Josh Thurman: "I hesitate to broach the topic, but what happen if you DO lose the title? I mean, do you have a rematch clause? What will that mean for you?"
Sentinel: "Look, as much as I despise Jones, I accept that the unlikely is still a possibility. And if he wins this championship, this company will have trouble on its hands. Someone like that representing a company like this that's looking to expand and make a name for itself in a crowded world of federations? Anyone with eyes and sense can't help but see that that would be a catastrophe."
Talon: "Which is why my Destroyer is so motivated to win, to retain."
Leaning in, Sentinel locks eyes on the interviewer.
Sentinel: "You want the full truth here, Josh?"
Josh Thurman: "Absolutely."
Sentinel: "Vince Jones doesn't have what it takes on his own to take this title from me. Through his entire monologue sitting on this same couch, I heard a lot and most of it was crap. But it's what I DIDN'T hear that struck hardest: confidence. I heard how 'V' do and what 'V' is all about and what 'V' don't allow. What I didn't hear is how he plans on beating me. The people he pays to ride with him, to keep him straight and focused? They can't even keep him on point anymore. Vince, he wants a war. That's what he said, isn't it?"
Josh Thurman: "I'm pretty sure he said as much at some point, yes."
Talon: "He doesn't know the meaning of the word, Mr. Thurman."
Her sharpness of tone gets the interviewer's attention, but only until the champion speaks again.
Sentinel: "Vince cares more about baiting his opponents with smack talk and making threats that, lately, he has no chance of following through on. Do I look rattled to you, Josh? Does it look for even a moment like 'The Violence' has taken me off my game?"
Josh Thurman: "...not even a little."
Talon: "Be honest."
Josh looks between them in confusion. Sentinel, who should probably have taken offense at his wife's interjection at face value alone, does no such thing. He keeps right on staring at Josh who, despite rising-again nervousness, stares again.
Josh Thurman: "I don't see it at all."
Sentinel: "Then congratulations, because you're seeing things the way I do now, Josh. You're starting to realize that you sat through an hour of hot air over garbage from a man who's so full of himself and high on his illusion of what he is that he couldn't even shake your hand. Someone who's so jacked on the idea of himself that he can't even be bothered to promote the fucking match.
Didn't that guy used to be Vince Jones?"
Talon: "Not anymore."
The couple sits back again and Josh, perhaps the tiniest bit in awe, stays forward. He's out of cards at this point, but presses on for more.
Josh Thurman: "Do you have any parting words then, champ?"
Sentinel: "I've said it before but Jones needs a refresher: no one fears him anymore. No one is in awe of him or what he's done, and that's a state he's brought on himself."
Talon: "Sentinel doesn't have that issue. When he talks, people listen. When he says he's going to beat someone's ass, he does it win or lose. But winning and losing isn't the name of the game Sunday night. It's all about retaining the World Heavyweight Championship. It's about putting a new shine on that belt's legacy and the legacy of this company."
Sentinel: "The former champions were good, even great. I'm going to be even better. With this belt on my shoulder and this company on my back, it has no limits, no heights which it cannot reach. Jones would have the UWA in the gutter within two weeks. But I'll be damned if I allow that to happen. This title symbolizes the best that the UWA has to offer. That isn't Vince Jones. It's me. And it's going to stay that way for a long, long time."
At that, Josh rises along with Talon and Sentinel. Again he offers his hand to the pair and again it's accepted...though Sentinel loosens up just slightly this time for the host's sake.
Josh Thurman: "Thank you for your time, champ, and Talon, too."
Talon: "A pleasure."
Sentinel: "Take it easy, Josh."
Cutting away from the set, and a very relieved Josh Thurman, we're back on the bus again post-interview. Sentinel and Talon walk down the length of the vehicle as it starts up and starts to get in motion. The title still rests over the shoulder of the Destroyer as he pauses before the door to the back bedroom, turning to Talon with a chuckle.
Sentinel: "I can't WAIT for Sunday, baby."
Talon: "Oh, me either. I can't wait to see their faces...hell, everyone's faces, when we step out on that stage."
Nodding knowingly, the champion finds himself staring at the championship after a moment. Sensing his shift in focus, Talon walks around in front of her husband and follows his firm stare. She runs her fingertips over the nameplate of the belt, then puts her hand to his cheek, making him look at her.
Talon: "I have faith in you, baby. We all do. You're going to go out there and make us proud."
Sentinel: "Damn right I am. Vince goes down and this belt comes back home with us. I'll break him if I have to, Talon. If I have to dip into that well of darkness..."
Talon: "I know you will. Just keep your focus, though, okay? You've made progress. Don't throw that away."
Leaning down, Sentinel damn near melts Talon with a simple press of his lips to hers before drawing back.
Sentinel: "Not for anything or anyone. I only see one thing right now and that's Vince Jones. And that's all I'll see until he goes down in defeat at my hands."
Talon: "...and then?"
Sentinel: "Then?"
Talon: "Yes."
Popping his neck and hitching that title up a little more on his shoulder, Sentinel stares straight ahead.
Sentinel: "Bring on the world."
Talon's response is a sultry smile before they disappear into the bedroom and kick the door shut behind them. The scene ends, obviously, at that point as the roar of the bus's engine overtakes all else. Let the final ride to hell commence.
Fade to black.
Josh Thurman: "I don't know if this is a good idea. Jones was less than agreeable and now I have to deal with his opponent, knowing that he's seen what Vince said? I'm freakin' doomed..."
The dark-haired, middle-aged woman pauses in her combing and styling to glance toward the mirror and the host's reflection, then turns back to her work.
Josh Thurman: "I mean, I've seen this guy lately. He treats interviewers like chew toys. And he's gotta be coming in here pissed. Maybe I oughta make some excuse about being sick..."
Stylist "And miss the payday coming with all this? You're a professional, Mr. Thurman. That's not what you do."
The hapless journalist returns his gaze to the woman who is already back to work on making him presentable. Meanwhile, our attention is redirected towards the green room, such as it is, where the World Heavyweight Champion himself sits on a plush sofa, his gorgeous wife pacing back and forth before him while speaking on her cell phone. He's a few days removed from his first defense of his championship, a title that rests beautifully over his silk-covered shoulder. He's about to offer a rebuttal to some very pointed words from a motivated opponent in Vince Jones, someone he's tangled with more than once. Indeed the weight of the world is on the Destroyer's shoulders...
...yet he looks far more interested in watching his wife walk back and forth. Unabashedly, he stares at the woman's legs in motion, looking as though she were poured into those leather pants to say nothing of the corset-style top and flared jacket she's wearing above. Every step click thanks to the heels of those knee-high boots, too. That body demands attention...even if that attention should be elsewhere. In fact, Talon, finishing her call, points this out quick-fast upon seeing where Sentinel's eyes are. There's no hiding that she likes the attention, though.
Talon: "Mind on business, handsome. We're on in less than five and unless you're planning on responding to Jones by telling him how long my legs are..."
Gray eyes flick from Talon's toned stems to her face and Sentinel cuts a smirk almost on the level of a Donavan. When she lifts a red brow he shrugs and relaxes.
Sentinel: "Worried?"
Talon: "Were you watching the same thing I was? Your temper, sweetheart..."
Canting his head a bit, the champion gives Talon a gaze that's equal parts curious and incredulous. She's set to continue but instead goes quiet. He shakes his head slightly.
Sentinel: "It's under control. Justification has been given for anything I choose to say or do at this point. Besides..."
Rising, he takes her hand in his, the black silk shirt resting well against his form above black jeans...more than enough to get a lady's heart pumping.
Sentinel: "You'll be out there with me."
Nodding in agreement, the two turn in tandem as a stagehand pokes his head in, telling them they're on in two. Sentinel gestures that he understands and returns his attention to his wife.
Sentinel: "Time to hammer in the final nail."
Flashing her own predatory smile, Talon slides her arm within Sentinel's and walks out of the room with him. Mere moments after the scene goes black, we get the requisite montage and theme to Wrestling After Hours before shifting to Josh Thurman standing mid-set. If any tension lingers in the man, it's nowhere to be seen now as he stands ready to greet the fans.
Josh Thurman: "Welcome again, fans, to Wrestling After Hours! Last time we had the pleasure of speaking with the number one contender to the UWA World Heavyweight Championship, but tonight...we're talking with the champion himself! Please give a warm welcome to, accompanied by his wife and manager Talon, the UWA World Heavyweight Champion...SENTINEL!"
"The Sentinel" by Celldweller plays in the background as the camera is adjusted slightly, taking in the sight of Sentinel and Talon walking up to the set. There's no snubbing this time; when Josh offers his hand, it's shaken by both Talon and the champion...though the champ's natural grip causes minor discomfort. It's unintentional of course, and Josh gestures to the sofa whereupon all three sit, the latter taking the armchair.
Josh Thurman: "Welcome, both of you. Pleasure to have you on the show."
Talon: "Likewise."
The champion's response is a nod and Josh settles forward a bit. Some of the tension is back but he's trudging onward regardless of it. Sentinel takes note of this but says nothing at the moment, allowing the host to dive right in without interruption.
Josh Thurman: "I'm certain the both of you saw my interview with Vince Jones recently. Your challenger for Raising Hell had some pointed words for you, champ, so let's get down to business and get your thoughts on his message."
Sentinel: "Fire away. That's why we're here, after all: to set the story straight."
Talon: "No revisionist history on our watch."
Shuffling his notes a bit, chuckling nervously as he finds his starting point.
Josh Thurman: "Vince said, quite plainly, that he's tired of being asked how he feels stepping in the ring with you, Sentinel, for that championship over your shoulder. He perhaps feels that people should be asking you the same question, that the awe should come from your side and not his. Thoughts?"
Cracking a half-smile, Sentinel fixes his gray stare on the host.
Sentinel: "Deflection, Josh."
Josh Thurman: "...deflection?"
Sentinel: "Jones takes that as a sign of disrespect. He's facing the World Heavyweight Champion, fighting for a title he's never held. He's main-eventing a pay-per-view in a marquee match for the first time in a long time. If that doesn't make a man nervous, maybe make him a little shaky on the inside, then he's not cut out for this business."
Josh Thurman: "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at."
Sentinel: "The day you don't get the butterflies standing behind that curtain, waiting for your music to hit and getting yourself ready mentally to tear into an opponent and put on a show doing it...that's the time when you're done in this business. Same as when you think you know it all like Jones sometimes sounds like he thinks HE does. If you know it all, what are you still doing here? Time to take a hike. There's nothing left for you in the wrestling business. Vince knows, especially after his performances recently, that he's not as ready as he thinks to take me on. He remembers me drilling him into the canvas a while back because that's not the kind of sensation that lets go easily. He sees, now, that I've moved to a whole new level of prowess also as this belt clearly indicates. So...he tries to claim that people should be questioning my nonexistent awe of him to try and obscure the fact that he's scared gutless that this will be a repeat of last time. And he damn well SHOULD be afraid of that."
The host looked as though he were expecting another answer entirely but gets back to his notes in short order. Talon smiles thinly herself.
Talon: "He's always had that air, like he's king of the yard and everyone should be kissing his boots. But until you're on top of the mountain with that gorgeous hunk of gold and jewels on your shoulder?"
She points to the championship.
Talon: "You're still climbing."
Josh Thurman: "Fair point. Since you spoke up though, Talon, there was a point in the interview when Jones mentioned you more or less directly, stating that he'd offer, um...consolation...to you after he defeats Sentinel for the title."
The scene pauses and fades on that point, shifting to the personal bus of Sentinel that he uses most of the time to go between shows. He has a laptop open on his lap as he sits on one of the wall-mounted couches, the voice of Vince Jones unmistakable as it blares through the speakers. Talon walks up a few moment later, sitting and watching alongside him. Both find the piece amusing, apparently, and still do after the laptop is drawn shut.
Talon: "What do you think?"
Sentinel: "I think I want you to call this Josh guy and set up some time for us."
Talon: "Oh yeah?"
Sentinel: "Ain't no ignoring this, baby. Vince wants to open this door? I'm gonna kick it down in his face."
Licking her red lips in anticipation, Talon rises with phone in hand, already searching for the website and the phone number to go along with it. Sentinel, meanwhile, stares out the window with a smile tugging at his pale lips. And then we're back to the interview as though we'd never left, with the question of Vince's "offer" to Talon still up in the air. Sitting and staring at the host, Sentinel stares silently while one of Talon's brows goes up. The couple exchange glances, becoming stern of expression, then turn back to the host. Josh is ready to quail, perhaps run for the hills, when they start laughing uproariously. It's a couple seconds long, but it offers a little relief to Josh which he sorely needed.
Sentinel: "Consolation, huh? Josh, look at this woman sitting next to me right now. Do you know who that is?"
Getting the feeling that the question was rhetorical, Josh simply nods.
Sentinel: "THAT is the Angel of Sin, Talon. She's held more than a couple championships in this business and has whipped men bigger and badder than Jones in her day. Not to mention she's one of the hottest women on the planet. Look closely now...then look at Vince Jones. Look at how he talks, what he represents and everything else that makes him whatever the hell he is."
The champion leans in as Talon, despite herself, flushes slightly.
Sentinel: "They wouldn't let someone like him into her neighborhood, Josh. I don't blame Vince for lusting. Half the planet lusts when this vision walks down the ramp with me. But does he think he's doing anything different by talking that kind of smack? Does he think that's going to get under my skin or Talon's? We get it. It's sour grapes. Forgive the arrogance, but look at what he surrounds himself with and look at who walks by my side. It goes back to what I've already said while promoting this match over the last two weeks: Vince doesn't think before he speaks. He has nothing to offer in terms of logical reasons as to how he'll beat me and take my title, so he resorts to smack talk like usual."
Talon: "There's only one man on the planet capable of earning my love and respect while at the same time carrying the top title in the UWA. And you're looking at him. Pining away after a real woman is apparently Vince's idea of getting ready for the biggest match of his career, though. It's not a new approach and until sense is beaten into every poor soul who walks that particular mental road...it's just something we'll have to deal with."
Nodding, Josh switches cards.
Josh Thurman: "That sort of carries me into my next question, champ: Vince took few direct shots at you, but one of the pointed ones concerned the UWA Owner, Olivier Georgio. He didn't say so directly, but..."
Sentinel: "...but he tried to paint the picture that I'm just doing the boss's bidding or something like that. That's what you're trying to say."
Josh Thurman: "W-Well, I, ah, wouldn't presume..."
Sentinel: "Whoa, easy, Josh..."
The champion makes a calming gesture with a hand before continuing. Josh seems utterly relieved.
Sentinel: "Vince has no idea what respect is. I have a ton of respect for Olivier. How could I not for the man who personally sought me out and signed me to the UWA and who afforded me the opportunity to get to where I am now despite the wrongs I've done? Olivier gave me the hand up and now I'm returning the favor by representing his company and trying to take it to a new level. Vince wants to think that I'm just licking the boss-man's boots because, again, he's looking for excuses. And, again, that's to be expected. I've beaten the hell out of him before in tag and singles matches and he knows I'm even more capable of doing it now than I was before.
At this point, almost everything he's said to and toward me in the lead-up to this match has been a variation of the same Vince Jones rhetoric the world grew tired of months ago. Same jive-talk, same old song and dance. Hell, if you just listened to him? How the hell would you know the enormity of this match and what it represents for the future of the UWA one way or the other?"
Talon: "It's fear. The same fear that Vince used to put in the hearts of his opponents, now turned upon the man himself. He can't deal with it. We understand."
Not totally sure what to make of this, Josh nevertheless pushes on.
Josh Thurman: "Well, let's talk about the man himself. He referred to himself as a beast, saying he's on a whole other level than you and everyone else. He does what he does, to paraphrase, because it's what he wants to do."
Sentinel: "That I believe."
Talon: "Didn't say what kind of beast, though, did he?"
Josh Thurman: "Well, what would you equate it to?"
Sentinel: "A hyena, Josh. Hell of a bite, nasty disposition despite the 'laughing', but little more than a low scavenger picking the bones of the kills of greater predators. He thinks he's some kind of uncontrollable, all-consuming force that's going to run through me and everyone else in the UWA but lets not forget that not more than a month ago he was running from a match with, of all people, Bob Brooks. Don't misunderstand my meaning because Brooks is a hell of a wrestler when he's motivated and not focused on being a creepy little bastard, but he's barely gotten his feet wet here. Jones should have, if history tells true, tore through him like a steamroller running over a sleeping bag full of cranberries.
And yet...he ran. Took the count-out. And this is the man who wants to be the top champion in the UWA? That's who we're supposed to know and fear as the baddest man on the block?"
Talon: "Pitiful."
Sentinel: "I've never run from a fight in my life. Didn't matter how many there were against me or what they were packing...whether I had my friends at my back or if I was all alone. I put my head down and charge anything that's in front of me, trying to take what's mine. Win or lose, the sonofabitch opposing me is going to feel the effects of a war with the Destroyer for a long damn time after the fact."
Josh Thurman: "It's easy to see you think little of Jones. But it didn't used to be that way. Back during your first one-on-one encounter you professed something in the way of respect for the man you're facing again this Sunday. What happened?"
Sentinel: "He started to swallow too much of his own hype. He became a caricature of the kind of person that I loathe: those who would rather talk than act, who would rather spew bullshit from a safe distance than get in close and take as good as they give. Ducking challenges and running away from fights is no way to earn or keep respect, Josh. If I were going that road in this, I'd point out everyone who's beaten his ass and make fun of him for dropping his belt to a woman. I can be just as insulting and abrasive as anyone else but what would that prove? What purpose would it serve? No, I'd rather make my point in the ring. And I'm doing just that come Sunday night."
Josh Thurman: "That makes sense, I think."
The brief lull gives us a moment to go back in time again, this time to more recently...as in just before the interview. Josh is up and pacing, the stylist still nearby as she puts away her things. But she can't helping looking at the interviewer with matronly concern.
Josh Thurman: "I mean, I had to fight to get Jones to sign for the show, but...Sentinel requested this! Rather, his wife did...but even so! How do I know he isn't coming here to do to me what he almost does to Thumper in the UWA?! What if he blames me for what Jones was saying?!"
Stylist: "You worry too much."
Josh Thurman: "Impending doom makes me nervous! I admit it!"
Clicking her tongue, the woman gives Josh a prod with the business end of a hairbrush, damn near making him jump out of his skin.
Stylist: "You've been doing this a while, no? You have every intention of being professional, right?"
Josh Thurman: "Of course, but...!"
She gives him that look that every mother, whether it's their kid or not, has. It shuts a person down almost involuntarily.
Stylist: "Then stop worrying. Do what you do. You might surprise yourself...and them."
The woman walks out of sight and Josh, still having to swallow a lump in his throat, nods and tries to steel himself. Back into the interview again, Josh seems far more relaxed than he had. He's settled back into his chair, ready to fire off another question or two.
Josh Thurman: "There has to be some concern as to what will happen if you lose, champ. Vince doesn't travel alone as you well know. No one is questioning Talon's prowess, but you're still likely to be outnumbered..."
Sentinel: "And don't think I haven't thought about that, Josh. Rest assured, I'm prepared for Jones and his posse."
Josh Thurman: "Care to elaborate on that?"
Sentinel: "Nope."
Talon: "Come now, don't you like surprises, Josh?"
With her winking and Sentinel grinning, Josh figures that they have a point and leaves it at that as a smile of his own sneaks out. Despite himself, he's calming down...maybe even enjoying himself at this point.
Josh Thurman: "I hesitate to broach the topic, but what happen if you DO lose the title? I mean, do you have a rematch clause? What will that mean for you?"
Sentinel: "Look, as much as I despise Jones, I accept that the unlikely is still a possibility. And if he wins this championship, this company will have trouble on its hands. Someone like that representing a company like this that's looking to expand and make a name for itself in a crowded world of federations? Anyone with eyes and sense can't help but see that that would be a catastrophe."
Talon: "Which is why my Destroyer is so motivated to win, to retain."
Leaning in, Sentinel locks eyes on the interviewer.
Sentinel: "You want the full truth here, Josh?"
Josh Thurman: "Absolutely."
Sentinel: "Vince Jones doesn't have what it takes on his own to take this title from me. Through his entire monologue sitting on this same couch, I heard a lot and most of it was crap. But it's what I DIDN'T hear that struck hardest: confidence. I heard how 'V' do and what 'V' is all about and what 'V' don't allow. What I didn't hear is how he plans on beating me. The people he pays to ride with him, to keep him straight and focused? They can't even keep him on point anymore. Vince, he wants a war. That's what he said, isn't it?"
Josh Thurman: "I'm pretty sure he said as much at some point, yes."
Talon: "He doesn't know the meaning of the word, Mr. Thurman."
Her sharpness of tone gets the interviewer's attention, but only until the champion speaks again.
Sentinel: "Vince cares more about baiting his opponents with smack talk and making threats that, lately, he has no chance of following through on. Do I look rattled to you, Josh? Does it look for even a moment like 'The Violence' has taken me off my game?"
Josh Thurman: "...not even a little."
Talon: "Be honest."
Josh looks between them in confusion. Sentinel, who should probably have taken offense at his wife's interjection at face value alone, does no such thing. He keeps right on staring at Josh who, despite rising-again nervousness, stares again.
Josh Thurman: "I don't see it at all."
Sentinel: "Then congratulations, because you're seeing things the way I do now, Josh. You're starting to realize that you sat through an hour of hot air over garbage from a man who's so full of himself and high on his illusion of what he is that he couldn't even shake your hand. Someone who's so jacked on the idea of himself that he can't even be bothered to promote the fucking match.
Didn't that guy used to be Vince Jones?"
Talon: "Not anymore."
The couple sits back again and Josh, perhaps the tiniest bit in awe, stays forward. He's out of cards at this point, but presses on for more.
Josh Thurman: "Do you have any parting words then, champ?"
Sentinel: "I've said it before but Jones needs a refresher: no one fears him anymore. No one is in awe of him or what he's done, and that's a state he's brought on himself."
Talon: "Sentinel doesn't have that issue. When he talks, people listen. When he says he's going to beat someone's ass, he does it win or lose. But winning and losing isn't the name of the game Sunday night. It's all about retaining the World Heavyweight Championship. It's about putting a new shine on that belt's legacy and the legacy of this company."
Sentinel: "The former champions were good, even great. I'm going to be even better. With this belt on my shoulder and this company on my back, it has no limits, no heights which it cannot reach. Jones would have the UWA in the gutter within two weeks. But I'll be damned if I allow that to happen. This title symbolizes the best that the UWA has to offer. That isn't Vince Jones. It's me. And it's going to stay that way for a long, long time."
At that, Josh rises along with Talon and Sentinel. Again he offers his hand to the pair and again it's accepted...though Sentinel loosens up just slightly this time for the host's sake.
Josh Thurman: "Thank you for your time, champ, and Talon, too."
Talon: "A pleasure."
Sentinel: "Take it easy, Josh."
Cutting away from the set, and a very relieved Josh Thurman, we're back on the bus again post-interview. Sentinel and Talon walk down the length of the vehicle as it starts up and starts to get in motion. The title still rests over the shoulder of the Destroyer as he pauses before the door to the back bedroom, turning to Talon with a chuckle.
Sentinel: "I can't WAIT for Sunday, baby."
Talon: "Oh, me either. I can't wait to see their faces...hell, everyone's faces, when we step out on that stage."
Nodding knowingly, the champion finds himself staring at the championship after a moment. Sensing his shift in focus, Talon walks around in front of her husband and follows his firm stare. She runs her fingertips over the nameplate of the belt, then puts her hand to his cheek, making him look at her.
Talon: "I have faith in you, baby. We all do. You're going to go out there and make us proud."
Sentinel: "Damn right I am. Vince goes down and this belt comes back home with us. I'll break him if I have to, Talon. If I have to dip into that well of darkness..."
Talon: "I know you will. Just keep your focus, though, okay? You've made progress. Don't throw that away."
Leaning down, Sentinel damn near melts Talon with a simple press of his lips to hers before drawing back.
Sentinel: "Not for anything or anyone. I only see one thing right now and that's Vince Jones. And that's all I'll see until he goes down in defeat at my hands."
Talon: "...and then?"
Sentinel: "Then?"
Talon: "Yes."
Popping his neck and hitching that title up a little more on his shoulder, Sentinel stares straight ahead.
Sentinel: "Bring on the world."
Talon's response is a sultry smile before they disappear into the bedroom and kick the door shut behind them. The scene ends, obviously, at that point as the roar of the bus's engine overtakes all else. Let the final ride to hell commence.
Fade to black.
