We fade into a plane gate area as a limo pulls up and stops. The chauffeur immediately exits and rushes over towards the back right passenger’s side to open the door which Perfection steps out of. He stands full suit and dapper, the normal for James Witherhold. Immediately he tips the driver. He’s better than the idiot who drove him in London and took his sweet time. Crew attendants begin to swarm the rear of the limo to grab luggage for the travel to France, Perfection’s next stop in his winning streak tour. Within a few moments our host notices the camera and begins walking towards it.
“Out of all the places on this god forsaken planet that we can wrestle at, France by far has to be the worst. Who could ever like visiting such a filthy, low-brow country overrun by Abdul types? I certainly don’t, but a match is a match.”
A grin crosses the lips of Perfection.
“And…a payday is a payday…another win is exactly that, another win! Winning isn’t all that matters to me though, Ungratefuls. Some would say it is; some would say the only thing I care about is if I get the win and the payroll check. To a degree that’s right, but there’s more to it than just that!”
His arm and finger jolts out at the camera.
“There’s also respect! Something that is missing when it comes to ‘Yours Truly’ and the UTA management! You’d think differently by the way I carry myself. The cars, the mansion that I own...hell, even this personal jet that plans to take me to white flag waving France screams overpaid. My lifestyle makes you believe I AM the UTA golden boy, which I am, but for other reasons unrelated!”
Both hands now point in the direction of the plane.
“Take this personal jet for example, Ungratefuls. Do you think the peanuts that UTA pays me…which is more than the majority of the so-called stars…would be able to pay for my type of luxury? No, it all comes from my personal wealth! Do you think the UTA, for as much money as they rake in, would pay for this type of travel arrangement?”
A brief shake of James head.
“Hell no! They would have stuck me in coach on an Air France flight like a CBR or La Flama Blanca…and if they really didn’t like me they would have placed me next to Cayle Murray and threw me on a multi-day train ride! Luckily, I have far too much pride for such shenanigans…and not only that, I waved travel from my new contract. Why?”
He begins to walk towards the jet.
“Because all I ask for is some pocket change…all I DEMAND is respect, Ungratefuls! And do you see that respect anywhere? Do you see them respecting the man who took UTA to the level it’s at now? Not a single drop of it- NO RESPECT! Take a good look at the booking decisions for the coming weeks if you think I’m full of it.”
The female flight attendant standing next to the jet just just now has entered view. She smiles at Perfection as he takes his first step on the staircase to the plane. He decides to pause and step away.
The attendant covers her mouth blushing slightly.
“Why thank you, Mr. Witherhold.”
Perfection smiles at her and with his free hand not holding the staircase railing to usher her up.
“Open a bottle of the Bollinger and make yourself useful. Got it?”
Her face immediately changes to more serious before she makes a quick haste to the staircase, his hand slapping off her ass as she makes her way past him.
“Pleasures of being on the outside, Ungratefuls and independent. Unlike Greer! Unlike having to rely on so-called friends to make you better! I never...EVER…”
A casual smirk we can see slightly and a chuckle we hear knowing that what he says is a lie.
“Had to rely on ANYONE! I’ll go to war on my own as I always have!”
Perfection turns to the camera smiling, one foot planted on the staircase.
“Oh yes, Ungratefuls, Stephen Greer and I will go to war on Victory. We will make the roof come off the damn Palais Omnisports, whatever the hell the rest is, in Paris! Mainly due to ‘Yours Truly’ and his immaculate wrestling! Yet, after a showing of MY true wrestling skill in a country that doesn’t deserve my wrestling presence…and after my hand is raised in undeniable victory...I get the great pleasure of opening Proving Grounds…”
James turns and walks up the staircase, his arms spread open in a confused like manner.
“…the ‘pleasure’ of curtain jerking a third rank show! Respect obviously isn’t prevalent, not when a class athlete is thrown to the lower card. Common sense is also not prevalent when your top draw isn’t even on your pay-per-view! Do you know who is though? Do you Ungratefuls know who gets to show their ugly mug in Tokyo at International Affairs?”
He is about to cross the threshold into the plane yet stops. His right hand begins to shake up and down in an “I forgot something” motion.
“Oh, that’s right…”
James body turns around making the camera take a step back. His finger almost hitting the camera lens as he steps forward.
“...Stephen freakin’ Greer! The ‘one minute champ’ not only gets to show his ugly mug on that pay-per-view yet also gets his chance at a welfare title shot! If the disrespect isn’t real enough, the insult to ME is even greater and more real! Hard feelings about what I pulled in regards to my contract holdout is evident! Now, I’m the number one target, just like I was roughly a year ago!”
He takes one step down off the staircase getting closer to the camera, his eyebrows raised.
“MANAGEMENT, they, can’t get over it! THEY can’t get over the fact that the first time they attempted to hold me down I rose to the very top of the company! THEY doubt that I can repeat that feat! It’s either insane or idiotic to think that I won’t, can’t, or don’t have ambition to TAKE what is mine again!”
Finally he turns back around making his way back up. As he enters the captain leading his voyage welcomes him with a bow that Perfection completely ignores. Witherhold walks over to a couch that sits in mid-fuselage, lying across it.
“So, how do I deal with such adversities? How do I overcome the odds that are continually stacked against me? By beating the ever living piss out of every single person that is meant to be a roadblock to my rise, that’s how! It started with Lew Smith and it continues with Stephen Greer, Ungratefuls! By once again proving that holding me down only pushes me harder!”
James places his hands behind his head relaxing. The captain’s voice is heard in the background just as Perfection’s eyes settle closed.
“Mr. Witherhold, we should be taxing in the next…”
Bothered by interruption he pops up slightly.
“Do you NOT see I’m busy?!”
No words from the captain come back as Witherhold waves the Captain away.
“Stephen Greer is not only a top class athlete in the eyes of you Ungratefuls but is and WILL be another example of my dominance in MY sport! Who can say otherwise?! Who can look at my track record and really believe that I won’t hold the UTA World Championship for a third time?! Or won’t put Greer down for the solid three count? Only the delusional, that’s who!”
His eyes roll in the back of his head before he shouts.
They focus back on the camera.
“Seemingly they all reside in upper-management. Is that shocking? Given the track record of this company that sits at the top of the industry, thanks to people like Sean Jackson and ME, you’d think they’d get their act together! You’d think they’d promote excellence and not attempt to squander it!”
The attendant approaches the couch with a tray and a glass sitting on it filled with a bubbling champagne.
“Keep them coming and get lost.”
He clears his throat addressing us once again.
"But what do I know, I’m merely a small cog in a larger wheel in their eyes. When in fact, I AM THE WHEEL! I am the very piece that has made UTA work smoothly and given you Ungratefuls some of the best matches ever witnessed! It doesn’t end just because management wants it too. No, it continues at Victory!”
A smile crosses his lips as he sits up straight and takes a small sip of the champagne.
“Another top notch match and proof that I am the most destructive, most challenging, and BEST superstar to grace the UTA halls! Stephen Greer should be lucky to have a chance to step in MY ring with me. He should thank the wrestling gods that he has the chance to be beaten by the most iconic wrestler that has been produced in over a decade!”
Over the speakers comes a low “ding” sound. Perfection rises from the couch and sits in a seat directly across fastening the seatbelt.
“Ignorance is bliss though, he’ll look past that. He’ll see me as just another opponent and not what I am…the RIGHTFUL king of the UTA throne! He won’t see past the fact that he is merely facing me because someone up top has a bone to pick! So be it. Let them, him, or even you Ungratefuls think that I’m not what I claim I am!”
Again he takes another sip and unbuttons his suit jacket after.
“Won’t be the first time, won’t be the last. And to be frank, I love proving fools wrong! I love being the underdog! It makes me fight harder, work harder, WIN harder! It made me the best damn champion you will ever see- it’ll make me the best damn opponent Stephen Greer has ever faced! Like they say, the fun isn’t being at the top, yet the rise to it!”
He looks at the camera with zero doubt in his eyes.
“And I WILL rise to it!”
He chugs the rest of the champagne and points the empty glass towards the camera.
“One win at a time.”