Heroism v Reality

Toronto, Ontario, Canada - February 3rd, 2021 - 4:45 pm EST.
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[A cigarette can be seen being lit, as our scene opens to the backyard exterior of a Victorian-era home, with Apollo St. Paul seated atop an apricot Mid-century western sofa; attired in a black Adidas t-shirt, navy blue Adidas snorts and snow-white/jet back Adidas sneakers. The aforementioned cigarette dangling in his right hand, as he glances out at his yard. Pondering the decision he made recently to return to the industry for the first time since he walked away from the ring in November of 2018, citing injuries plus a "loss of love for the sport" at the time. Which wasn't surprising, as people knew that he had been battling a torn meniscus and a fractured wrist, with both requiring surgery.

Surgery that he had been putting off because of his commitment to wrestling; more specifically his commitment to the IWA. None of that matters presently, however, and as he finishes lighting the cigarette and lifting it to his mouth, he allows himself to reflect upon the passion that had waned during his final days there. How every match was feeling more like a chore and less like something he truly attained enjoyment from; how walking away was the only thing that felt right for him at the time.

He blows a plume of smoke into the air as he continues casting his eyes across the yard, his thoughts drifting from the past to his current state. Of trying to find a window back into the industry. A door that he can push open once again.

Yes, it may not be the wisest of decisions. He is thirty-seven now and rusty from his absence but he knows that if anyone can climb back to the pinnacle of wrestling. If anybody is to truly pull off the story of "the veteran who still has it" ... it's him. Another plume of smoke leaves his mouth as he gently smiles, reclining further back against the couch; tilting his head to look up at the sky above. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he blows a plume of smoke into the air like a fog machine as he tilts his head back forward. Slightly tilting it to the right, then to the left before softly laughing to himself. Thinking about the opportunity he received in the mail last week after he announced he would be returning to the ring. A way back into the business, so to speak. Even though he had multiple doors he could have elected to open ... even with his former employers.

There was something ... unique about this opportunity that drew his attention. The fact that this particular company was set in a world of its own. A location that they own and operate, rather than the traditional "traveling" company, where you tour locations around the world that are already established. A concept that is unique in this industry; something that gravitated Apollo toward it.

After all, he has done the standard "touring" for almost half his life. From America to Japan, to Mexico, to Europe, and even to places like Kenya. He's slept in plenty of hotels over his career, to the point where it has become stale. To where it just feels ordinary to him. Yes, each location has its quirks and unique aspects but overall, they have blended into one another in his eyes. This is the primary reason why the self-contained nature of WrestleWorld stuck out to Apollo during their "pitch".to him. First via e-mail, then in person when they flew out to this very house; met him eight days ago.]

{{{Apollo}}} "WrestleWorld ..." [Whispering the name of the company, he bends over; puts out the now finished cigarette he had in his mouth before curling the left side of his mouth into a smile. Allowing the name to resonate within his mind.]

[He reaches to his left, where we can now see a packet of thirty Belmont Milds [approximately twenty-five are left], which he extracts another cigarette from. He knows smoking can affect cardiovascular activity, yet it hasn't impacted him in the past; he has been smoking ever since he turned twenty-one. That's not to say it won't impact him, but that despite his habit, he hAs been renowned for his cardio and work ethic in the ring. Nor is he the type of person to tire easily. Either way, even if it did negatively affect him ... he wouldn't care. He knows his strengths and he knows how to work to them in the ring, so he would be the same Apollo St. Paul he has always been. Lifting up his lighter, he lights the cigarette and calmly places it into his mouth. Deeply considering how best to approach the subject of his debut match within the WrestleWorld sphere.

A battle with someone who calls themself "The Great Omegaman". A persona that wishes to be seen as a "Superhero" to the masses and the extinguisher of what he claims to be "evil". Laughing calmly, Apollo remembers the last time he went toe-to-toe with somebody who portrayed themselves as a "Superhero". Complete with cliched mask and cape. A man by the name of the "Majestic Eagle" in IWA. All the way back in 2009.

A match, born from Apollo's desire to send a message. A statement of intent to then World Champion Michael Anderson that he wasn't going to be intimidated. That he wasn't going to back down, just because he believed Apollo was nothing more than "words without action"; he didn't care who he had to use in order to send that message. Nor did he care how much Majestic Eagle wished to portray him as an "evil-doer" who needed to be vanquished for the greater good. Much like he assumes The Great Omegaman will try to portray him as this week.]

{{{Apollo}}} "Superheroes ... That is the theme of today's sermon. An identity that is as old as time itself. We have all heard or read about them. Whether it be in comic books, cartoons, or movies. They are as much a part of the fabric of culture as Starbucks or Tim Hortons. The difference is, superheroes are a work of Fiction [The final word of his statement enunciated for emphasis, Apollo blows out a plume of smoke before continuing.]

"As in, they're not real. Nor have they ever been real. They're a construct. A persona, designed to allow us to live vicariously through them. A means for us to escape from the real world." {An evil smirk crossing his face, Apollo mentally recalls how that match with Majestic Eagle went. A match that was more like a slaughter, the more he thinks about it.]

[The taste of nicotine settling within his mouth, Apollo allows smoke to continue rising from the butt of the cigarette as he extracts it from his mouth. Only to gently; calmly shake it so that the ash falls into the ashtray positioned in front of the packet before returning it to his mouth. His thoughts returning to that massacre within the IWA ring. Sanctioned murder as some called it at the time, and a similar fate to what might befall the supposed "Great Omegaman" when he does battle with Apollo inside of the WrestleWorld dojo. In Apollo's eyes, he may as well be the reincarnation of Majestic Eagle, as everything else about them is the same. Even if their names might be different.]

{{{Apollo}}} "As children, we admired that about heroes. They were the persona we wished we could become. They were our means of believing that we could do anything that our hearts desired, as long as we put our minds to it and truly wanted to impact the world ... that is, until we grew up. Until we realized that the world. The ordeals that confronted us, could not be vanquished by simply flying in with a cape and declaring that "evil shall perish". [Calmly stating this, he sucks in some more nicotine, before pondering whether it is worth it to dissect The Great Omegaman. To ruin his dreams.]

[There was a point in his childhood where he was like The Great Omegaman. Where he would read comics and admire the superheroes contained within. Where he wished he could be just like them when he grew up. Superman was the primary hero of choice when he had those occurrences. He would even re-enact scenes from his favorite comics with his friends in elementary school. Much like he imagines Omegaman did with his friends. When they had nothing else to worry about aside from schoolwork and fantasizing about their future. Claiming that they would become just like Superman when they grew up.]

{{{Apollo}}} "For that isn't how life works. The desire was born from our youthful innocence. Our naivety. The naivety that you are yet to overcome. You still live within that fantasy, believing that if you wish upon a star. If you believe hard enough, that it will become true. That the people you serve will shower you with adulation and feed into your heroism. That they will cherish you like they do comic books. That the cape and mask you wear suddenly turns you into this "morally superior" persona. Impervious to the corrupt world around you. Uninhibited by the greed and power that infests the world.

...Yet you only believe that so you can hide from the same reality...
(Don't try to deny it wither, you know it's true.)

That mask and cape you wear is your shield. It's your way of being able to shed your skin and be that hero. It's the way you set aside who you really are; lay claim to the title of "Great Omegaman", protector and savior of earth and vanquisher of those you claim to be "evil-doers". Of ensuring that those who stand against you perish and repent from their sins.

It's why you don't want people to find out you true identity. If they do, then your whole "shield". Your protective barrier becomes nothing more than a mirage. Able to be exploited at a whim." [Smirking, Apollo pulls the cigar from his mouth once more, dropping the butt into the ashtray. Leaning back against the sofa and looking back up to the sky.]

[It's the same story he told Eagle all those years ago. Laid out for a new audience and a new foe. Yet that is because it is still true. Both men used their masks to conceal their identities. To try and escape from reality and the realization that they are the very same people they claim are villains. That they are just as corrupt and filled with dreed, ready to exploit the masses whenever it suits their agenda.

The difference to them is that they do it to uphold their honor and virtues, whilst people like Apollo do it for their own sake. It's something that has always made Apollo laugh. Why else would he be doing such an act, if it wasn't for his own sake? If there was no way he could benefit from it?]

{{{Apollo}}} "Yet what you do not realize is that it's inevitable that the mask. The cape will be torn away from you. That your own make-believe cover will be Exposed to the world. When it is, you'll have no choice but to accept that you're no longer a child. That the time has come to accept who you truly are.

...To understand that sometimes, aspirations and dreams are unattainable...
(Reality hits like a brick, doesn't it?)

Don't worry. We all have to face it at some point in our lives. It's how you cope with it and accept it that matters. If you wish to continue playing pretend hero and believing that the masses will still accept you, then that is your choice. Trust me though, they won't. For just as you believe "evil" exploit them, they exploit you the very same.

They exploit your inability to learn how to mature beyond the age of twelve. They exploit your foolish belief that they are innocent and that their hands are clean. They exploit your faith in them. You just cannot see it yet. Or you choose not to see that yet, believing in what is morally good and pure." [Pausing, Apollo tilts his head back down, a cold-blooded; maniacal look in his eyes, followed by a burst of cackling laughter.]

[Slightly pushing himself forward, Apollo places his hands on either side of him, preparing to stand up, as his flight to the mysterious location known only as "WrestleWorld" is to take-off in three hours and he still needs to finish packing up his clothes, as well as his attire. It had completely slipped his mind to do so in advance. Especially considering he usually does that sort of thing as soon as he finds out where he needs to be; when he needs to be there.]

{{{Apollo}}} "Fret not however, for I am more than happy to teach you the reality. I am more than happy to be your reality check and the one who opens your eyes[b]. Consider it [b]charity. A free gift that you can receive at DOMINION when you step foot between those ropes and face me. Bring your cape and your mask, Omegaman. I'll gladly play the role of kryptonite. [Sliding forward, he coldly stares forward. As if he were staring face-to-face with Omegaman himself.]

'For this isn't a comic. This isn't a movie, where the hero eventually conjures a way to overcome the odds and rescue the damsel in distress. This is reality and in reality ... it is the hero that falls. It is the one who claims to be "pure of heart" that finds out that they are just like everyone else. DOMINION will be your slap in the face, when I tear apart everything you stand for. This isn't elementary school anymore, Omegaman. Your playtime is over and it's time to wake up from your dream. Time's up."

[With those words, Apollo rises and commences his walk back into his home. Knowing that in a matter of days, he will make sure WrestleWorld and especially the Great Omegaman, know exactly who Apollo St. Paul is; why he calls himself the "Lord of the Ring".]