Post by tirri on Oct 11, 2022 10:42:39 GMT -5
I’m Mr. Nice Guy (oncam)
We open up to a view of Donny Mason seated in a cushy armchair in a room lit by a fireplace crackling off to the side. The big Englishman is dressed to impress in a sharp suit and with a glass of whiskey in his hand. A quite radical departure from the casual and easygoing image he had been known for.
“Evening everyone. Glad that you could join me.”
Donny looks up to the camera and offers a smile, one that feels a little off as his eyes seem hard, cold.
“I take it you all saw or heard about my little tirade at EXP? Good. I’d be a bother to have to reiterate everything I said. So I’m just gonna move on.”
He pauses, leaning back and swishing his drink around a bit before shrugging.
“Or actually, elaborate a bit. You see, when I was sitting at home, trying to recover from the concussion, I had a lot of time to think as I said. I took a long hard look at this business of ours. And honestly? What I saw disturbed me.”
Donny sips the whiskey and sets it down, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees, crossing his fingers with his palms pressed against each other.
“You all know the old saying. “Nice guys finish last”. I always thought it was just an excuse people used to justify their actions. That’s how I was raised. To do the right thing. To always be kind, always be polite, always be nice. My mum, god bless her soul, spent 20 years trying to make me the best possible man I could be. And I carry those lessons with me to this day.”
The big man pauses again, a melancholy look flashing through his eyes before they harden again and he lets out a small, joyless chuckle.
“But then… you look at this business. Or, in a smaller scope, just this company. Levelup Wrestling. You look at Maggie Lockheart who used brain trauma as an excuse to cross all kinds of lines to get her way. You look at Joey Crash who broke a man’s neck just to win the big one. You look at Duncan Shepard who sold his soul and made a deal with the devil to finally get over the hump and win the big one. And it’s not just the Final Boss title. You look at Larry Tact, man who assembled a stable just to get an upper hand. You look at EAB who paid his way to the Game Changers and then to the Courage title. You look at Sidroy Covington and how he hired extra muscle to retain his title against Jenny. Or you look at Jenny herself, who… okay, let’s be real, nobody knows what her issue is, just that she broke a lot of rules to get her way.”
A pause for effect. The whole situation seems more like an elaborate scene than an actual promo.
“What that tells me? It tells me that this business enables men and women with lacking moral fiber. Men and women who are willing to walk on the dark side just to get their way. And it made me stop and think. Do nice guys really finish last?”
Donny lets the question hang in the air, gently tapping his forefingers together as he does.
“I mean, my dad was, deep down… VERY deep down a nice guy. And he never got anywhere. The big one eluded him to the day he retired. Nao was a nice gal. the nicest of them all. Ahmya for those who didn’t know. And where did she end up? Mentally broken and gone from the face of the earth, a sequence of events that also turned the one man I didn’t mention. Robert McAlroy. Bert. A bitch in sheep's clothing. Pops opened his door to him. Brought him and Nao to safety when a psychotic clown was stalking them. Being the nice guy I am, I risked life and limb to help Robert save Nao from some VERY shady folks. I’m not even shitting you guys here. We are talking “Get a 9mm handgun before dealing with them”-level shady. And after all that? Robert turned on me because we beat him and Nao in a match.”
You can hear the pain in his voice despite his best intentions to mask it. Donny falls quiet until he shakes his head and lets out a small sigh.
“No good deed ever goes unpunished indeed. Anyway. You guys must be wondering why am I rambling on about things I’ve more or less already said before when I should be talking about my return to Levelup and my match against Nocturne. Honestly? Because there is very little to say about Nocturne. Pops would call her a job guy. Or well, a job gal I guess? Anyway. So instead of trying to come up with ways to insult her and belittle her and talk about her in general, I figured I’d rather talk about myself and my realizations. See, I am Mr. Nice Guy. Always have been. But lets be real here alright? In this business of ours, that won’t get you far. Not to the top that’s for sure. So what if, maybe, just maybe, I took a leaf out of the book of winners and wasn’t so nice all the time? What if I stopped being a Mr. Nice Guy and started taking hold of any and all advantages presented to me? Would that make me a bad guy?”
He pretends to listen for responses, going through a gamut of facial expressions before settling on a surprised one.
“It would? Oh well. See, here’s the thing. This isn’t a hollywood movie or a childrens novel. This is real life. Bad guys always win. But then again, you all know this already don’t you? Of all the people watching, I’m betting atleast 90% are the type of folks who look at this dude who’s cool, cocky and bad and think “Man, I wanna be like him.” Cause after all, we are all programmed to like the cool guys. The bad boys.”
Donny gives a knowing look, glancing over his shoulder to a poster of a muscle bound man with white mustache and a bandana, holding a golden title belt with three letters spray painted onto it.
“It is funny though. Society is really bipolar in that sense. Our parents tell us to be kind while our surroundings tell us to be bad. And honestly? Nocturne is an example of that subliminal conditioning. She wears a mask to hide who she is. Yet, we have been conditioned to cheer even the masked wrestlers because they are cool. Tiger Mask. El Santo. Yet at the same time, in real life, only criminals hide their faces.”
He reaches for his drink again, sipping it softly before chuckling.
“Sorry, I got on a bit of a tangent. Nocturne, maybe you are just like me under that mask. A nice guy. Or well, a nice gal. But We’ll never know because you hide. Maybe I should unmask you. Show the world who you really are. Let them see if you’re naughty or nice.”
The last part came in a slightly sing-songy fashion, referencing an old Christmas song. But he catches himself quickly and stands up.
“Anyway. I’m rambling here. And I’m not telling you anything you didn’t know already. At EXP32 comes the dawn of a new era of Donny Mason. An era where I see what I can do to not finish last. How far do I need to push? How badly do I need to change who I am? But don’t worry. I’ll still smile for the camera and sign your autograph. One hand will pat you in the back and the other will punch you in the face. But it’ll be alright.”
He raises his glass in a mock toast and smiles that odd halfhearted smile of his.
“You can trust me. I am Mr. Nice Guy after all”
The view fades to black as we hear the chorus of a particular song, or rather a cover by Megadeth play in the darkness
“No more… mr. nice guy…”
We open up to a view of Donny Mason seated in a cushy armchair in a room lit by a fireplace crackling off to the side. The big Englishman is dressed to impress in a sharp suit and with a glass of whiskey in his hand. A quite radical departure from the casual and easygoing image he had been known for.
“Evening everyone. Glad that you could join me.”
Donny looks up to the camera and offers a smile, one that feels a little off as his eyes seem hard, cold.
“I take it you all saw or heard about my little tirade at EXP? Good. I’d be a bother to have to reiterate everything I said. So I’m just gonna move on.”
He pauses, leaning back and swishing his drink around a bit before shrugging.
“Or actually, elaborate a bit. You see, when I was sitting at home, trying to recover from the concussion, I had a lot of time to think as I said. I took a long hard look at this business of ours. And honestly? What I saw disturbed me.”
Donny sips the whiskey and sets it down, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees, crossing his fingers with his palms pressed against each other.
“You all know the old saying. “Nice guys finish last”. I always thought it was just an excuse people used to justify their actions. That’s how I was raised. To do the right thing. To always be kind, always be polite, always be nice. My mum, god bless her soul, spent 20 years trying to make me the best possible man I could be. And I carry those lessons with me to this day.”
The big man pauses again, a melancholy look flashing through his eyes before they harden again and he lets out a small, joyless chuckle.
“But then… you look at this business. Or, in a smaller scope, just this company. Levelup Wrestling. You look at Maggie Lockheart who used brain trauma as an excuse to cross all kinds of lines to get her way. You look at Joey Crash who broke a man’s neck just to win the big one. You look at Duncan Shepard who sold his soul and made a deal with the devil to finally get over the hump and win the big one. And it’s not just the Final Boss title. You look at Larry Tact, man who assembled a stable just to get an upper hand. You look at EAB who paid his way to the Game Changers and then to the Courage title. You look at Sidroy Covington and how he hired extra muscle to retain his title against Jenny. Or you look at Jenny herself, who… okay, let’s be real, nobody knows what her issue is, just that she broke a lot of rules to get her way.”
A pause for effect. The whole situation seems more like an elaborate scene than an actual promo.
“What that tells me? It tells me that this business enables men and women with lacking moral fiber. Men and women who are willing to walk on the dark side just to get their way. And it made me stop and think. Do nice guys really finish last?”
Donny lets the question hang in the air, gently tapping his forefingers together as he does.
“I mean, my dad was, deep down… VERY deep down a nice guy. And he never got anywhere. The big one eluded him to the day he retired. Nao was a nice gal. the nicest of them all. Ahmya for those who didn’t know. And where did she end up? Mentally broken and gone from the face of the earth, a sequence of events that also turned the one man I didn’t mention. Robert McAlroy. Bert. A bitch in sheep's clothing. Pops opened his door to him. Brought him and Nao to safety when a psychotic clown was stalking them. Being the nice guy I am, I risked life and limb to help Robert save Nao from some VERY shady folks. I’m not even shitting you guys here. We are talking “Get a 9mm handgun before dealing with them”-level shady. And after all that? Robert turned on me because we beat him and Nao in a match.”
You can hear the pain in his voice despite his best intentions to mask it. Donny falls quiet until he shakes his head and lets out a small sigh.
“No good deed ever goes unpunished indeed. Anyway. You guys must be wondering why am I rambling on about things I’ve more or less already said before when I should be talking about my return to Levelup and my match against Nocturne. Honestly? Because there is very little to say about Nocturne. Pops would call her a job guy. Or well, a job gal I guess? Anyway. So instead of trying to come up with ways to insult her and belittle her and talk about her in general, I figured I’d rather talk about myself and my realizations. See, I am Mr. Nice Guy. Always have been. But lets be real here alright? In this business of ours, that won’t get you far. Not to the top that’s for sure. So what if, maybe, just maybe, I took a leaf out of the book of winners and wasn’t so nice all the time? What if I stopped being a Mr. Nice Guy and started taking hold of any and all advantages presented to me? Would that make me a bad guy?”
He pretends to listen for responses, going through a gamut of facial expressions before settling on a surprised one.
“It would? Oh well. See, here’s the thing. This isn’t a hollywood movie or a childrens novel. This is real life. Bad guys always win. But then again, you all know this already don’t you? Of all the people watching, I’m betting atleast 90% are the type of folks who look at this dude who’s cool, cocky and bad and think “Man, I wanna be like him.” Cause after all, we are all programmed to like the cool guys. The bad boys.”
Donny gives a knowing look, glancing over his shoulder to a poster of a muscle bound man with white mustache and a bandana, holding a golden title belt with three letters spray painted onto it.
“It is funny though. Society is really bipolar in that sense. Our parents tell us to be kind while our surroundings tell us to be bad. And honestly? Nocturne is an example of that subliminal conditioning. She wears a mask to hide who she is. Yet, we have been conditioned to cheer even the masked wrestlers because they are cool. Tiger Mask. El Santo. Yet at the same time, in real life, only criminals hide their faces.”
He reaches for his drink again, sipping it softly before chuckling.
“Sorry, I got on a bit of a tangent. Nocturne, maybe you are just like me under that mask. A nice guy. Or well, a nice gal. But We’ll never know because you hide. Maybe I should unmask you. Show the world who you really are. Let them see if you’re naughty or nice.”
The last part came in a slightly sing-songy fashion, referencing an old Christmas song. But he catches himself quickly and stands up.
“Anyway. I’m rambling here. And I’m not telling you anything you didn’t know already. At EXP32 comes the dawn of a new era of Donny Mason. An era where I see what I can do to not finish last. How far do I need to push? How badly do I need to change who I am? But don’t worry. I’ll still smile for the camera and sign your autograph. One hand will pat you in the back and the other will punch you in the face. But it’ll be alright.”
He raises his glass in a mock toast and smiles that odd halfhearted smile of his.
“You can trust me. I am Mr. Nice Guy after all”
The view fades to black as we hear the chorus of a particular song, or rather a cover by Megadeth play in the darkness
“No more… mr. nice guy…”
