A dark cloud lingers
A hotel room in Cleveland Ohio
Show: Wrestleshow 51
A dark cloud seems to linger over things lately. Here in Cleveland it's weather the football coach and the GM will survive another lost season. Will the baseball team overcome their cheap ownership and contend? Is the basketball team with one of if not the best player on earth going to win it all in June or will the wheels fly off with injuries like they did last year?
My dark clouds seem to grow from annoying to frightening. The annoying one is easy enough. I seem to have picked up a sinus cold that won't let me function as normal. I've been waiting for all of my "fast acting medicines" to kick in so I can get some needed sleep. It's a minor annoyance in that it's slowing me down but not stopping me from doing most normal things.
The next dark cloud is the reformed and apologetic CBR. Maybe it is the medication or the fact I've been around the block a few dozen times. A tiger doesn't change stripes. This seems to be apologetics of convience more than anything. Maybe I'm wrong Claude. I've always seen the skills in you to be more than the lost man in the Dynasty shuffle. I've paid attention to the traits that scream that you can, could and should be much more than the Legacy champion. When I look at you, I see a man stuck with a label, fair or not "One of the best to never win the UTA World Championship". It's up to you to show me and the world that those thoughts, labels and perceptions aren't true on Monday.
Show me that the man matches the talent. Amaze the world with proof that you can deliver on promises and not just in matches. Make good on the form that proves the man is bigger than the belt and ready for bigger things.
Will I help you fight your battles? If, and only if the change is genuine. If not, your old friends from Dynasty won't be your only battle Monday in Quicken Loans Arena.
Then there is the gathering storm. You Scott Stevens, I'm well aware that storms don't change path in mid course so the collision is coming. There are three questions that will be answered soon enough. When? Where? And how much damage will be done to both of us when this happens?
Then, there is the last grey cloud. The largest one. The one that looks like it's carrying an F 5 with it. Who sent you and why? Those clouds hang over my thoughts like nothing else and....
BUZZ!! BUZZ!! BUZZ!!
In a moment, Ron's eyes snap open. His hand slowly fumbles around for his glasses. He quietly slips them on and looks at his phone. It reads "Missed call" There is a text message he needs to read. It's short and sweet. "Did you get the meds you needed? Hope you get some rest. Monday figures to be a long night."
He looks around for a moment. He's in his sweats and a white T Shirt. He's in his hotel room and been asleep for a while... He looks around to see next to him on the bed stand is a green bottle of death... ok nyquil, some aleve, musinex and a large bottle of water. A glance at the clock reads that it's 10:57 pm. In order to hopefully resume his normal life tomorrow, he takes a moment and counts backwards and realizes that it's been more than 12 hours as the packages suggest so in a moment, he forces down another shot of green comatose, the musinex and the alieve.
He takes a couple of clogged, annoyed breaths and downs the reminants of the water bottle and settles in for more of this dark cloud. Medically induced sleep... and whatever thoughts and dreams accompany this trip to the drug store.
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