@AugustJoyce: New aim, get to Sweet Sixteen in the #ULTRATITLE Tournament to face @KHardHero!
You know, sometimes plans don’t always work out. But this time, for once, it wasn’t down to August.
The Beresford Apartments Vancouver, Canada Monday 14th May 2012“Dude, you’re an idiot!”
The voice of Benjamin Doi carries from off screen as we open on the kitchen of August Joyce’s apartment. Joyce is stood by the refrigerator, leaning on the open door as he peers inside looking for a drink.
“Seriously, what the shit were you thinking?”
Doi walks into view with a TV remote in his hand, using it to point out of the door at the TV screen in the other room.
Joyce hooks out a couple of bottles of beer, passing one to Ben and closing the fridge door. “What are you talking about?” Joyce asks.
Benjamin shakes his arm to emphasise his pointing. “I’m talking about DAT!” He shakes his head as Joyce looks past him to see what his friend is pointing at. “You were on Twitter during a match?”
“Ha!” August chuckles. “Yea… not the wisest move I’ve ever made.” He opens his beer and takes a quick swig. “But, take another look, I was outside the ring and the bell hadn’t sounded. I’m not the one who made a mistake.” Joyce stands beside Doi and points to the off-screen TV. “Joe made a mistake trying to jump the bell. Which one of us is still in this tournament?”
“Aight.” Doi turns back into the kitchen and opens his beer. “So, round two. Congratulations. Slump officially over eh?”
Joyce shakes his head as he drinks. “No, I don’t think I can say it’s over after one win. One win doesn’t make me a great wrestler any more than losing makes Joe a bad one. But if I can get through to the third round…”
“Ok, I get ya.” Doi says with a smile. “Now hows about you ‘n me take these beers in there and watch the Gordon/Suicide match.”
“Good plan!” Joyce raises his beer bottle before heading out of the kitchen and out of view.
Outside the Beresford Apartments Vancouver, Canada Friday 18th May 2012
August is stood outside his building as he is ready to talk about his endeavours in the ULTRATITLE Tournament. He looks into the camera and smiles.
“You know what? A lot of people… a LOT of people… expected me to fail in the first round of the ULTRATITLE tournament up against a former NFW World Champion… a previously undefeated Joe the Plumber.”
Joyce stops and tilts his head to one side slightly, an eyebrow raised and a thought brewing.
“Wait, he was a FORMER champion and undefeated? What gives? Did he get stripped or did he walk away from his title? I mean, seriously, what kind of loser does that?”
August pauses and looks away from the camera for a second, remembering the Rising Sons 2006 in Japan where his friend and tag-team partner Tim Worthington walked out of a match when he was defending the MWA World Championship. He looks a little sheepish for a moment, hoping Tim wouldn’t see this, before looking back at the camera and getting back to the point.
“Joe, as much as I want to shout from the rooftops that I ended the Plumber’s undefeated run, as much as I want that to mean something to me, it did kinda seem like you failed to turn up for our match. And that disappoints me. In fact I’d go so far as to say that ending Joe the Plumbers undefeated streak means absolutely nothing to me.”
He shakes his head and sighs.
“But, let’s not dwell on the past. Let’s look forward to the second round, something that DOES mean something to me; what’s sure to be a tough match against Pat Gordon Jr.”
“Pat, I caught your match with Suicide. Or The Hound; whatever. You put up a good fight, got a good victory over one heck of an opponent. I can see you’re a tough S.O.B, a second generation wrestler who knows how to handle himself in the old squared circle.”
Joyce smiles again and puffs a short blast of breath from his nostrils like he’s just thought of something amusing.
“Ah, second generation, there’s a phrase I hate. Being a second generation wrestler means jack shit. You’re smart enough to know that, right? I only ask because I’ve heard people talk about being second generation or third generation like it means they’re better than the rest of us who didn’t follow in our parents footsteps. Commentators especially just LOVE to point out when someone’s second generation. Don’t get me wrong, being second generation doesn’t mean you can’t be successful; it’s just that for every Bret Hart or Eddie Guerrero there’s a Shawn Stasiak or David Sammartino.”
“Gordon, I don’t think you’re arrogant enough to fall into that second category. I honestly think you’re the real deal and I think I’m in for one hell of a time when we step into that ring together. The pair of us may have come into this competition as underdogs, we may have both beaten people who were expected to go all the way… but we can light up round two with the best match imaginable. Round two is an interesting one; one where I’m out to prove that beating Joe was no fluke. You’ll no doubt be wanting to do the same. Will I wake up with a Sunday morning hangover? Possibly. Will I get to make the choice? Hopefully. Will the rest of the bracket sit up and take notice of whoever advances? Definitely.”
August smiles one last time before turning on his heel and walking off screen as we fade to black.