Jordan Rattler - What it takes

The pitch black screen hums with an ominous tone as it seems all light has been held captive within. The familiar hue of golden light etches its way across the screen, drawing the eagle emblem now accustomed to the American Patriot, Jordan Rattler. The flames dance around, as the sound of fire ripples through the air waves. His emblem emblazoned on the screen before the screen combusts with the sound of a fiery explosion replacing the momentary silence.

Darkness. Void.

“I’m impressed Zayne.”

Is heard as the screen slowly starts to set in as Jordan sits on the turnbuckle of his personal ring that he has set up in his manor. The area is lit with bright white lights, as various gym equipment can be seen scattered around in the background. He sits there in training gear, his ALPHA Zenith Championship lies in his hands as he stares at his golden trophy.

“You managed to guide that anger, that passion. You managed to channel it.”

“But for what? To only embarrass yourself as your delusion overtakes you shallow thinking? You have taken a step forward… But alas, you have yet to free yourself from your insecurity. That cloud…”

He pauses.

“That cloud that looms in the back of your mind, that doubt you hold. It will only continue to grow each and every second that we are in that ring together. It will continue to haunt your thoughts each and every night up to the match. It will takeover, control your life. You will become a paranoid fly running through a swamp full of bullfrogs, hoping that today will not be the last.”

Shaking his head, he steps down from the perch to the apron, walking down the steps. The camera follows him, keeping the focus on the champion.

“You stand there preaching humility, humbleness. But what have you accomplished? Remarkable that a man looking to make a name for himself would resort to telling others that their overconfidence is null and void and that they are cowards for not thinking of the what if. That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. I’m not going to sit here and act as if I’m going into a match I can lose. The moment that thought crosses my mind I might as well pack my shit up and go home for the night. That’s the moment I lose all respect that I have for myself and retire from the ring. It’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve seen come out of that toxic shithole of yours.”

He perches the championship belt on his shoulder as he stands in the center of the shot with the ring perfectly split behind him in the background.

“This Sunday, I will show you why I am ALPHA Zenith Champion. I will show you a true champion’s mentality. The mindset in which it takes to execute and perform under the immense pressure. How to use your opponents weakness and exploit it. And I’ll start by using you and your doubt as my first example.”

He pauses.

“Delusional… Speaking of… While you impressed me Zayne, there was a man that was equally unimpressive. And that man, parades himself around in a superiority mindset that only leaves wakes of people sending out laughter at the stupidity in which he carries himself. Who is this man? The one and only man who single handedly made me want to gouge out my eyeballs upon seeing him spew venom in his fallacies. He calls himself fabulous but all he is? Is a joke who had been given too much of a false sense of pride with smoke blown up his ass his entire career.”

He sighs as he can’t believe what he witnessed waking up this morning. Frankie? Who the hell was this guy?

“Frankie, you daft buffoon. How much do you pay those poor saps to pretend to enjoy your presence? To laugh at your stupidity or to buy into your superiority? The miserable low lifes of the industry all crowding together to cheer on a man with so little self esteem that he’s willing to expose himself for more… Exposure. A man who has had to bring himself so low that he resorts to the comical approach.”

He takes some water, quenching the thirst after some light work ahead of his title defense tonight.

“And not only do you act a fool, but then you insult not only me but the pride I have for this nation you are in. My home. My character, my work ethic. And you think I’ll let that fly? You must have mistaken me for that Rauol fuck who thinks a he dropped an actual pipebomb. You must have mistaken me for Christian Zayne, who thinks that having doubt makes you a better competitor. Or Jimmy, who doesn’t know what in the actual hell he is talking about. Or you Frankie, you could have mistaken me for you. A man that has to put on a fake personality to try and appease the scum of the Earth for the little validity in which you receive.”

He sneers out. Agitated he takes a second to regain his composure.

“The truth of the matter is, I don’t feel I need to be buckled down to only competing twice a month. I’m hungry, and I have a competitive edge that needs to be fed. I work harder than anybody in this match. It’ll show this Sunday. I always fight at 110%, and to think otherwise is downright idiotic.”

He briefly closes his eyes. Then the fierce temper shows.

“I don’t back down to pressure, I don’t give in when the furnace is put on full blast. That’s just when the fun gets started. I live for the adrenaline of being pushed to the edge to perform at my absolute best and then beyond. I live for this shit. I live to compete. I need to compete. So I apologize if you’re happy with the chance of being booked twice a month when I regularly compete week in and week out to perfect and make a name for the Jordan Rattler brand. You act as if only working for one company somehow gives you the edge when in reality… Well, I can just let you keep thinking that as I overcome the delusion in which you have set in your feeble mind. You smooth brained fuck. And my demon?”

He gives out mean mug as his upper lip curls on the left side with a look of determination and motivation in his face.

“You don’t want that smoke.”

His expression lights up with enthusiasm.

“You don’t want my fire. Because I’m the kind of guy who fights fire with fire. I have a whole arsenal of moves to dissect my opponents both physically and mentally. I’m not the kind of guy who sits down at the bottom of the ladder while watching others duke it out and take to the top. And if my history is this caliber of a match is to say anything, I always. Come out on the top. Every. Single. Time.”

The screens releases in a fiery explosion as it returns to the flaming eagle emblem before completely fading out into blackness.