The scene would pick up, revealing the interior of the arena's medical office. Seated up upon the table would be none other than Xavier Laroux. His examination was beginning to wind down. While still having a few cuts and bruises, Xavier would be simply elated to find that he was cleared to compete. Sliding off of the edge of that table, he would damn near bolt out of the room.
Making his way down that hall, he would begin to make his way towards the Training Room. There was only but a few hours left before the show would begin. He wound up entering that room to find it totally empty. Perfect. Stepping into the room, he would close the door behind him. Examining the room, he would look at the various pieces of exercise equipment placed all around the room.
Then he would look towards an enclosed area, the windows steaming up slightly. Thinking of that hot tub in that room, he would begin to slowly make his way towards a stationary bike. Stepping up onto it, he swung his leg around, lowering himself into a seated position upon the piece of equipment. Placing his feet upon the pedals, he would begin to rapidly pump those legs of his. The only attire Laroux would be donned in this time around would be a pair of black and crimson colored gym shorts.
His legs pumping faster and faster, he would continue to push himself harder and harder. His thoughts would be focused on one thing and one thing alone. The match against Shane Eric Xanders. As of late, that had been the majority of his thoughts. He hated the fact that he had become so obsessed with this match but he hoped in the long run it would prove for the best. Stopping, he would lean forward, resting his bared chest against the bars of the bike.
Lowering his head, beads of sweat would drip from his forehead. Shaking his head back and forth, his body would begin to ache with the results of day after day of pushing his body past every limit he ever knew he had. Despite being medically cleared, he had chalked that one up to good acting on his part. Slowly, he would step off of that bike, breathing a bit heavily. Shaking his head back and forth, he knew exactly what he needed.
Aiming for that closed off room, he would approach the glass door. Reaching forward, he wrapped those fingers of his around the handle, he pulled back, opening the door. Instantly, he felt the warmth of the interior of that room. Stepping into it, he would allow the door to close behind him. Walking across the slick tile, he would approach that below ground hot tub. Stepping down the steps leading into it, he would find himself engulfed in that rather warm water.
Lowering himself into a seated position onto the steps, he would find his eyes closing. His body feeling like it was smoothing out like a crumpled cloth. Leaning his head back, he would aim his face upwards towards the ceiling of the room, a soft sigh of utter satisfaction escaping those lips of his. Bringing his arms up, his hands cupped together, they would hold a small pool of water. Lifting them up, he would throw the water into his face.
Rubbing his face rapidly, he would turn his head to the side, looking towards the man holding the camera. Flashing that smile of his, he would part those lips, speaking out.
Be miserable. Or motivate yourself. Whatever has to be done, it's always your choice. Wayne Dyer said that. The reason I quoted it is for you Shane. Now, whatever is going on in your head, now is the time to deal with it Shane. We're mere hours from our fated encounter and I want your head to be right.
Shane, I'm going to be straight up with you. Carmen poofed. It sucks and I'm sorry it happened like it did. But that's just it. It happened. Whether she's coming back or not, that's totally on her. That leaves you. Your head is probably really fucked right now, I know the feeling. I've had women bail on me too, it's hard to fight through. But you have got to get your head right.
If you don't? If you go into this match with your head filled to the brim with the drama bullshit you've got running through your mind, I'm going to beat your ass. You're going to need to be One Hundred percent both mentally and physically if you want to make it through this match, Shane. This isn't me blowing smoke up your ass, this is me being real with you.
Shaking his head back and forth a bit, he would recline a bit more against the edge of that hot tub. Keeping his eyes peeled to the lens of the camera, he would continue to speak.
Let's use another quote to try and help you. Thomas Jefferson said: When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it, and hang on. After you couldn't beat me...I understand that it hit you harder than you'd care to admit publicly, I totally understand that, Shane. But when Moretti beat you? Fuck that had to be like an arrow through the heart. It just made that rope of yours that much shorter.
Now is the time to tie that knot, Shane. Now is the time to hold on for dear life. In just a few hours, me and you are going to stare across that ring from one another. If you don't have something to hold onto, you're going to get knocked down. And this time, it's going to hit you harder than anything's ever hit you in your entire life.
The question is, if you get knocked down, Shane...are you going to be able to pull yourself back up? I mean, you've got so much going for you right now. King of the Universe...Mister Money In The Bank. Surely a loss against me wouldn't set you too far back...would it? Of course it would Shane, that's the kind of guy you are. A loss to me would be a huge hit to you, we both know this.
But on the other side of the coin...if I were to suffer a loss to you, it would probably screw my head up as well. That's just the risk you've got to take, Shane. But I'm not going to be thinking about that...no not at all. I'm going into this match with one thing on my mind. To beat you. I'm not worried about anything else in this match. I'm not looking to anything in this match except a victory.
I'm not going to be thinking about the woman who ran out on me...I'm not going to be thinking about the beating I want to give Ricky Stanton...I'm not going to be thinking about how great it is to be King of the Universe...I'm not going to be thinking about when to cash in Money In the Bank. I'm going to be thinking about beating you. That's it. That's the only thing that's going to be running through my mind tonight. That's the only thing I'm aiming for tonight.
Rising up to a standing position ever so slowly, the water dripping off of every corner of his being. Stepping up those steps, he would walk out of that hot tub, stepping onto the rather cold tile. Walking over to the brown wooden stand in the corner, he would snatch up a white cotton towel.
Bringing it to his chest, he would begin to wipe himself dry. Turning his head to the side, he would shoot a glance to that camera. That smile of his growing a bit, he would speak a bit.
I'll be back, I've got a few things to say to a certain group of people out there.
And just like that, the scene would slowly fade to darkness. A Danger Zone 2012 promotional video would begin to roll across your screens. After it's completion, the scene would pick back up, revealing the interior of the sold out Paul Tsongas Arena. The audience were on their feet, eagerly awaiting the start of the show.
The camera changing from where the feed was emitting from, it would reveal Xavier Laroux standing there off to the side of those black velvet curtains. Not speaking a word, Laroux would reach to the side, grasping hold of that ever so soft material. Pulling it to the side, he would reveal that sold out crowd. After a few moments of the cameras in the arena focusing on the audience, showing the literal melting pot of humanity that showed up to support the stars of Universal Wrestling Federation, Laroux would release the curtain.
After it fell back into place, he would turn around, facing the camera. Xavier, still sporting that swollen lip and eye would now be decked out in a pair of black cloth bondage pants, various chains and straps hanging from them, the fabric of the pants stitched together with a white thread. His torso would be bared, save for that Ace bandage wrapped around those ribs of his. A serious look upon those features of Laroux, he would begin to speak.
Shane...do you see all of those people? There are thousands upon thousands of people out there. Guess what Shane, most of them have much bigger problems than you do. Do you see it affecting them? No, because for one night at least, they have the chance to come here to watch us do what we do and forget about their troubles...their problems.
The least we can do...as Universal Wrestling Federation wrestlers is to push our own shit to the side and put on the best god damned show that they have ever seen. Shane, when these people are driving home, I don't want them talking about their homes being refinanced...their hours at work being cut...their jobs taken from them. I want them talking about how fucking great of a match me and you put on for them.
It is our duty to ensure these people have a few hours a week in which they don't have any worries. Are you going to be able to do that, Shane? Are you going to be able to do what you have to do? Are you going to be able to push your own personal shit to the side and put on one of the best fucking matches these people have ever seen, Shane? Because if not, then you bring your ass out here and tell these people, like a man, that you can't give them their money's worth.
Turning his back to the camera, Xavier would step out of the scene. The cameraman hurrying to follow him would trail behind Laroux as he made his way through those backstage hallways. Turning a few corners, he would eventually reach that labeled door. The name on the door would read Xavier Laroux Reaching down, he gripped the handle, giving it a firm turn. Shoving the door open, he would emerge into that locker room of his.
He would look over to a small brown wooden stand that held a white iPod dock on the top of it. Walking over, he would kneel down slightly, searching for a certain song on that red iPod of his. After a few moments passed, he would finally find the song he was looking for. Before he would play it though, he would turn his head to the camera, looking directly into the lens of it before speaking out.
Shane. I want you to listen to this song for a moment or two. I want you to listen to this song and feel the same invigoration that I get when listen to it.
Staring the song, Xavier would step to the side, bringing those arms of his up to cross them at his chest. Keeping his eyes locked onto the camera, the sounds of Bullet In My Hand by Redlight King beginning to play throughout the interior of the locker room.
I've got a fast life and a slow cuttin' knife.
I've been drinkin' at a poisoned well.
No home and a bag of bones
And nothin' else left to sell.
I know why I'm in this hell
I just don't wanna believe
Past that line, you just can't tell but right now...
There's someone lookin' out for me!
I came out of the darkness with a bullet in my hand!
I've got one more shot at livin'!
I'm lucky that I can.
'Cause I got a little roughed up!
Yeah I really got fucked up!
I came out of the darkness...with a bullet in my hand!
Pressing the button to stop the song, Laroux would develop a look of intensity across those features of his that he rarely had. Looking forward into that lens, he would speak once more.
Are you going to come out of the darkness with a bullet in your hand, Shane? Or are you going to punk out? Are you going to man up and give me the biggest fight I've ever been in or are you going to let me walk all over you. I mean fuck, you let Moretti catch you laying down on the job.
I want to face the fuckin' King of the Universe tonight, Shane. I want to face the future Hall of Famer, Shane Eric Xanders tonight. I don't want to face this silent...heartbroken...lovesick dog you're proving to be this week. I want to face the man that I know you can be. The question is...are you going to be that man?
Or are you going to let the fact that you got roughed up...fucked up...totally destroy the man that you are? Are you going to show Carmen what a stupid ass mistake she made? Or are you going to make her regret ever leaving?
Are you going to step into that ring with me and deliver the best god damned match these people have ever seen...or are you going to go out there and tell them you can't perform to the best of your ability because your woman left you? Let me know Shane, I'll be the guy in the ring wanting to do my job.
Shaking his head back and forth slowly, he would turn his back to the camera. Making his way towards that couch, he would turn, plopping down onto it. Bringing his right arm up, he motioned the cameraman out as the scene slowly fading to darkness. The final promotional piece of this week completed.
