Post by Terry McKenna on Jan 7, 2018 16:19:44 GMT -5
“THE BAND PLAYED WALTZING MATILDA”
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK JANUARY 05, 2018
“I'm just the best there is. Period.”
The South East London accent echoed throughout the dimly-lit studio and sitting confidently, and calmly, was Terry McKenna, laid back as ever. A cocky grin slowly etched its way onto his face, and a subtle laugh escaped his mouth. Staring directly into the camera lens, Terry leaned back and shrugged his shoulders, “Am I wrong?”
It had been a tumultuous two years for Terry, a period that saw him take his first real break away from wrestling since his 2007 debut, and it turned out to be an extended one. Wrestling was an escape for him, until he needed to escape from wrestling. Many failed comeback attempts were made but his heart just wasn't in it anymore and his head was always elsewhere. But in spite of those setbacks, Terry's conviction remained the same; he was the best. That served as his motivation to return.
“I've proved that all over the world,” leaning forward and placing his forearms on his thighs, Terry began counting on his fingers. “In England, Japan, America... wherever I go, I prove that I am the best. But I'm becomin' bloody sick and tired of provin' it – I shouldn't 'ave to!” Terry shook his head, “I don't need twenny different shirts, I don't need a nonce-y persona or a thousand stupid catch-phrases for punters to latch on to; I don't need to run around in a group with me muggy mates, and I don't need to spend hours putting on poxy paint prior to a show... all I need is myself.”
Turning the index finger of his right hand inwards, Terry scowled as he pointed to his chest, “I am wrestling!” The volume of his voice increased, and he slapped his chest as he continued, “I invest in myself...” With his voice cracking slightly and his face turning a shade of red, Terry paused briefly. “...not cheap gimmicks. That’s why I’m ‘ere – that’s why it’s me representin’ Rebellion and not some knob like Dante Cutler or Quinn Castillo. And it won’t be long before I’m bringin’ some Union Battleground gold home to Rebellion. ”
“That’s why I ‘ave to thank Union – thank them for not wastin’ my time. They coulda put me in a stupid match that would be doin’ nothin’ but wastin’ my time and my talent. Nah, but they’re smart enough to realise what they ‘ave in me – not just the first King Cobra champion, but a future Union Battleground Champion also. There isn’t anyone at Union capable of stoppin’ me; Brian Crucifix is just the first of many small hurdles on my path to the top.”
“But you know what? This is a match that I actually welcome ‘cause there appears to be some similarities between us. It’s Mr. Wrestlin’ versus Wr–” Bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, Terry cracked a smile and tried his best to contain a chuckle. “Nah, ‘old on, can we just talk about ‘ow much of a joke this guy is? Mr. Wrestlin? Is ‘e ‘avin a laugh? If what ‘e does earns him the right to be called Mr. Wrestlin’, then, like, I don’t know, man – wrestlin’ shoulda died on December 30, 2014 when ‘e debuted. He’s no one – a bloody nobody! And they’ve put ‘im up against me?” A smile crept its way onto his face. “Love it.”
“I love it, and let me tell you why. ‘Cause, not for the first time in my career, I get to give someone a reality check – I get to bring this geezer back down to earth. And mate does ‘e need it. The biggest problem in wrestlin’ today is people thinkin’ they’re bigger than they actually are. Rookies think they’re ready to main event a show, part-timers think they’re God’s gift, and tag team wrestlers think they’re capable of bein’ ‘the guy’.” Terry chuckled again. “There’s a reason, Brian, that in the four years you’ve been wrestlin’, the only thing you’ve achieved has been as a tag team wrestler. You need someone holdin’ your hand, Brian, clearly. But it’s nothin’ to be ashamed of, ‘onestly. Some people just can’t cut it on their own.” Lowering his head, Terry took a slight pause. “But I will say, when that is the case, you probably shouldn’t refer to yourself as Mr. Wrestlin’.”
“Your problem though, mate, is that you’re content with it all – you’re content with being someone’s second. You don’t really want to step away from the tag team scene, ‘cause you know that your lack of ability will be exposed. This match is a huge opportunity for you – huge for me, too.” The tone of his voice raised once again, “But you don’t want this, not as much as I do, Brian.”
“You’re a fraud,” leaning forward, Terry points at the camera. “You’re the problem with wrestlin’ today.” A beat passes. “You’re a fan – a glorified fan – who prefers the idea of bein’ a wrestler than actually bein’ one, and you’re too dumb to realise what’s in front of you. A fresh start, that’s what this is – for us both – a chance to be apart of something great. The season two premier of Union Battleground is around the corner, and we ‘ave a chance to make history, become the first King Cobra champion – become the the pinnacle of Union, even. This could be it for you, man. This could be your comin’ out party. This could be where Brian Crucifix finally makes it on his own, a tag team wrestler no more,” shaking his head, Terry looked legitimately disappointed. “But you can’t be arsed.”
“I don’t know what is preventin’ you from bein’ a full-time player ‘ere – perhaps the thought of mediocrity is appealin’ to ya – but I don’t care. I don’t care about you, Brian. Quite frankly, you’re nothin’ more than a minor inconvenience to me – a little bump in my road to the Union Battleground championship.” Terry sat back, brimming with confidence. “And that’s all you’ll ever be, Brian. You’re nothin’ more than a steppin’ stone, and you better get used to it.”
“Let this be a lesson to you, Brian, and let this be a lesson to the other six fighters in the King Cobra tournament; I will win.” Standing up, Terry inches closer to the camera. “There is no one – especially you, Brian – on my level. I could tear you lot apart, limb by limb, in my sleep. And if that’s what I need to do, then I will, ‘cause you best believe that when this is all said and done, I will be crowned the inaugural King Cobra champion.” Terry shrugs his shoulders. “But I don’t want that.” Another smirk forms. “I want more.” Pausing for a beat, Terry takes another step towards the camera. “The King Cobra championship is a novelty act – I want the real thing. I will barely ‘ave my ‘ands on that title before cashin’ it in on the championship that matters.”
A snarl started to develop on the corner of Terry’s mouth as he stood inches away from the camera. “I’m not one for makin’ predictions, nor settin’ out goals,” his tone much more serious and quiet, “but let me tell you lot ‘ow the second season of Union Battelground is goin’ to go.” A beat. “August 26, Coupe de Grâce – the season two finale – I will be stood in the ring as your Union Battleground Champion.”
Now emotionless, Terry looked into the camera for the final time before turning around.
