Blaze
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« on: July 16, 2014, 11:01:57 am » |
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Two leather chairs sit about five feet away from each other. A small mahogany coffee table is in between them. Two bottles of water sit on the small table. A camera crew works diligently to get everything in order. When everything seems to be in order, a man in a grey suit comes out and sits in the left chair. He has a microphone in hand, and before he sits, he introduces himself.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is John Stubbert. And in a Stubbert exclusive, I am conducting the first WWG interview for the new signee, Bryan Blaze.”
On queue, Blaze enters the room in what can only be described as one of the most obnoxious attires you may ever lay your eyes on. Steve Madden Combat boots click and thud along the cement floor, as Blaze makes his way towards the set with a look of undeserved superiority. He also wears a black pair of skinny jeans, along with a black Van Halen shirt and a white and black flannel vest that looks like it’s forty years old. An unmatching blue and white scarf and an oversized pair of plastic rimmed sunglasses complete the outfit, if you can even call it that. As Blaze reaches John, they shake hands promptly, and professionally. John looks visibly confused by the man that stands before him. John had heard the legend that was Bryan Blaze. A perennial underdog and underachiever for years, only to break through the proverbial glass ceiling in the only company he’d ever known, right before his shocking leave, just a month before that very same company folded. He had heard the almost unbeliveable feats that this man had done inside the ring. But what he saw before him was not what he was expecting; not at all. He remained professionalism however, and urged his guest to sit. As he motioned for Blaze to do so, Blaze nodded and sat, ready for the first question.
As John sits himself, he adjusts a few index cards that he had pulled from an inside pocket of his suit jacket. He looks at Blaze now, whom, for some reason, has a smirk on his face. John clears his throat before proceeding.
“First and foremost, Mr. Blaze I would like to take this chance to formally welcome you to WWG.”
Blaze doesn’t verbally respond; opting to raise his hand for a moment to acknowledge the comment. John continues.
“Ahem...well Mr. Blaze, I’m sure everyone has heard the story of your slow rise to the top of your last promotion, Ultimate Wrestling Entertainment, and the subsequent-”
“Woah, woah, woah John. Let me stop you right there. How would everyone know of my story? UWE was a small regional promotion that wrestled in nothing more than bingo halls and rec centers.”
John just kind of...stares at Blaze.
“No...in fact, UWE had a television deal and rather respectable sized Pay-Per-Views.”
Blaze irks his head to the right. “No, you are mistaken. Get your facts straight.”
“Moving on...” John’s voice trails off momentarily; he’s decided to just let this one go and move on to his next question.
“Well, with that being said, why did you leave UWE? If I am correct, you had just become the Triple Crown Champion and looked to be in your prime, at the time.”
Blaze runs his fingers through his short, but excessively greasy hair. There is in fact no way that it’s not that way on purpose. He sits fully back in the chair, before replying.
“Yeah, perhaps I was. However, there were alot of things happening backstage that I wasn’t particularly fond of.”
John coos at the comment, wanting to dig deeper, he presses on.
“Care to elaborate on these issues?”
Blaze smirks once again. A few years ago he would have loved to sound off on his grievances with his former employer. However, this version of Bryan Blaze is a much different man. He tries his hardest to exude a much more care-free attitude, and it’s a little transparent.
“Nope.” Blaze says, matter-of-factly as he reaches for his water.
“I’ve watched alot of tapes of your older wrestling matches, Blaze. And your interviews, and things like that. I, and anyone else who knows you at all I’m sure, would like to know...what is with this attitude change?”
Blaze raises an eyebrow at the question. “Attitude...change? What are you getting at, Steve?”
John squirms in his seat a little, and adjusts his collar. “It’s John, and...well, you’ve seemed to have undergone a transformation. Into...for lack of a better word...well, a hipster.”
Blaze stands, infuriated at the thought. “Hipster?! Where do you get off with such a label like that?” At first, Blaze appears to storm off. However, he just seems to pace around the room for a few minutes. Eventually, he goes back to his seat. His demeanour seems to have flipped, again. He appears to be cool and collected.
“Mr. Blaze, I am so-”
“Sorry. Yes, I’m sure you are. But it’s all cool, man. You’re aversion to people like me, “so-called” Hipsters, is very prevalent in society. It’s kind of sad, actually.”
Blaze takes a moment to gather his thoughts further. John opens his mouth to speak, but Blaze ssh’s him.
“But honestly, I don’t get why. Why is there such an aversion to those of us that care? We care of the environment, of animal rights and of human rights. Those of us who donated to Haiti BEFORE the disaster...those of us who choose to be vegan because it is the proper, no...the better choice. We are our own people. We are unique; original.”
John rolls his eyes, thinking what anyone else would think. “This guy is so full of himself.” Blaze probably notices, but doesn’t much care, and continues on.
“We don’t follow blind consumerism like the masses. The “trends” you all so blindly follow like the zombie slaves of corporate America. It’s a large part in why creativity, and by extension intelligence, is on the downswing.”
At first, John just stares at his guest. After a minute or two, the words finally come to him, well...sort of.
“Wow...”
Blaze, seeming oblivious, replies “I know, right?”
Shaking his head and with a discontent sigh, John motions with his right hand for the feed to be cut as the WWG logo flashes across the screen, and then goes black.
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