August Joyce is stood in a street in Vancouver, being filmed by a friend. It’s time for him to get some things off his chest, time to talk about Fox Industries and the events of last months Peach State show. His face looks tired and weary as he begins to talk.
“You know there are certain times in a mans life when he seriously questions his choice of career. Times that everything seems to go against him and that everything he does seems to be in vain.”
“I have no problem admitting that right now is one of those times for me.”
“I hit a rough patch of form, losing all my MWA matches. I decided to back away from the MWA to focus on Peach State, but my luck here’s been no better. Plus this week I was eliminated from the ULTRATITLE tournament in the second round. Heck, it was sheer fluke that I made it through round one.”
“To be honest, many will tell me that I need to be more optimistic, more focused, more positive. But that’s not an easy thing to do.”
“And the last thing I need at a time like this is for the F**ktastic Mr Fox to come along and play a dirty trick on me like he did at the last Peach State show. Being beaten down like that, an attack from behind? That’s low, Fox, even for an asshole like yourself.”
“To top it all off he’s offering me a spot on his team? To be one of his clients?”
Joyce shakes his head, looking away for a moment before composing himself and continuing.
“Somehow this clown of his, “Slim”, is supposed to motivate me into joining…. That’s just hilarious. “Slim”, you may be big, you may be strong; but there’s no way in hell that I’m going to roll over and die just so you can pick up an easy pay day. You’re going to be in for the fight of your life this weekend; I hope you’re ready.”
Joyce stares into the camera as the feed fades to black.
——–
The video fades up again as August is again on a street, this time in Stone Mountain, Georgia. He’s looking far more calm and more awake then when we previously saw him. He’s slowly walking down a sidewalk, looking at his surroundings as he talks to the camera.
“Wrestling has been my life since I was eight years old. I remember discovering it when I was in foster care and ended up watching as much as possible, reading as many magazines as possible, playing the video games and even playing that roleplaying game by email that was popular back in the day.”
“Man, I always sucked at that game.”
“I wound up training with a local wrestling school, found out I was quite good as it goes. And things just grew and grew from there. I loved wrestling, it was everything to me.”
“And now here I am. Many years older and at least a few years wiser, beginning to think that maybe wrestling should be on my Murtaugh list. I mean, I look at opponents like Pat Gordon Junior or Adrian Hunter and think to myself ‘I’m too old for this shit’.”
Joyce tuts to himself and rolls his eyes.
“And it’s thoughts like that, this self-ingrained pessimism that makes me think; maybe joining Fox Industries wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe with Fox in my corner I could achieve more in the few good years I have left in this business.”
“My only problem with that is that Fox is such an arrogant asshole.”
“I guess I have more thinking to do. Maybe it’ll be just down this street, at No Resolutions, that I finally make my mind up. Maybe Fox and the Peach State faithful here in Stone Mountain will find out at the same time I do. That should make things interesting!”
Joyce stops as he reaches the end of the sidewalk, two possible directions in front of him, and turns to face the camera.
“Whatever happens; whichever direction I choose to go down; I’m sure that this weekend will be a turning point for me. Either August Joyce joins Fox Industries, changing the landscape of Peach State Wrestling… or August Joyce runs Fox Industries out of town!”
August smiles and looks away briefly.
“So, Foxy, make me an offer.”
The scene fades out once more.