PROMO: Turning Point (?)

[King Cucaracha 0]

It's nearly time for some Ramadomination. Quite what that is, I'm not sure. But it sounds funny, so we'll let it slide for now. While other SWF workers might be deep into their pre-PPV training regimes by now, one is not. One is stuck, sat hunched over the small table in a hotel lobby, brandishing a notepad and pencil. If I said he looks confused, you'd probably guess in an instant that it's Landon Maddix. The same Landon Maddix who hasn't hit the gym at all yet this week. Which usually wouldn't be a shocker. Until Jay and JJ gave him stricter training regimes, that is. But for now, the only regime Landon is going through is a tactical one. And he's not faring well.

 

"Right. Max is two fifty and I'm not going to be able to muscle that around...which means, that's out of the window." Maddix mumbles, either repeatedly crossing out something on his notepad or crossing out numerous things on said jotter (OMG TEH THEASAURUS). "His arms are gonna be stronger than mine. So, I can't do that either. Which leaves me with...crap! This is ridiculous. C'mon Landon, think. Think. There's got to be some sort of weakness. Something, anything..."

 

As Landon continues to mumble away to himself, Jay Hawke appears in the background sipping at a can of Pepsi Max.

 

"Problem?"

 

"Big problem." sighs Maddix, tossing his notepad and pencil down on the makeshift desk in front of him. "Listen, Jay...I appreciate all that you and JJ have been trying to do for me, don't get me wrong. But, this isn't working."

 

"How so?"

 

"Well, Sunday night, I've got Max King. No problem, right? I know how to beat Max King. I know Max King's strengths. And I know Max King's weaknesses. And believe me, technical wrestling isn't one of them. This whole idea to make me a better wrestler is fine and dandy, in principal. But how do you expect me to go into a match with Max King and try to out wrestle him exactly? I've been sat here all day trying to analyse this out and what I'm left with is thinner than Bruce Blank's stand-up routine. Jay, I know it, you know it, he knows it...the way to beat Max King is for me to use my speed. He's a glorified cripple. Only, without the glory. Granted, I haven't challenged many cripples to a foot race in a while, but I'm pretty sure losing use of your limbs doesn't make you go faster."

 

"So, what exactly is the problem then?"

 

Maddix pauses, looking at Jay and slowly smiling. He's right. What IS the problem?

 

"Just use your speed to out-wrestle him. Simple."

 

Ah. THAT'S the problem.

 

"You mean...like...chain wrestling and stuff?" groans Maddix.

 

"Yes, chain wrestling and 'stuff'. What else do you expect me to say Landon? Go out there and aim dive after dive at Max King until he either moves, blocks or catches you? We all know where that got you against JJ now, don't we?"

 

Maddix groans again, hanging his head. Jay's right. That just makes it all the worse. If it wasn't for Landon abandoning his gameplan to go for the Crash Landon - a move Jay and JJ had specifically prohibited him from using, due to it's hit and miss nature - then he wouldn't have got locked in the Jujigatame. And if he didn't get locked in that, The Frostbite might not have followed. And that was against JJ Johnson. A man not nearly as strong as Max King.

 

"Landon, there's more to speed than being a human highlight reel in that ring. A well placed high-flying move, in moderation, even just in desperate cases...no problem. Look at me. Look at JJ. Look at Scott Pretzler. Look at the current World Champion, El Luchadore Magnifico. He can fly, sure. But he backs it up with sound technical wrestling. Granted, even he's a little too flippy for my liking. The base is there though. We're all speedy, but none of us are out of control luchadores. How many World Championships has Wildchild won, Landon?"

 

"...none."

 

"Exactly. Because he's a terrible wrestler? No. Not really. Because he has a tendency to take just one too many risks? Bingo. Do you see where I'm going with this Landon?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"If you want to go into your match and flip-flop your way around the ring, tumbling over the ropes and try to 'lucha' your way to victory...then go ahead. Myself and JJ won't stop you. But, we won't have any sympathy either, should it go wrong. Who knows, it might work. You might be able to beat Max King with high-flying tactics. No-one's saying you'll be certain to lose. But, ask yourself this Landon...do you want to take that risk? And do you want to throw away the past few weeks of training, in order to go back to tactics that weren't working for you for most of this past year. OR, do you want to increase your odds of winning by sticking to sensible tactics and wrestling?"

 

No comment. Maddix just hangs his head, taking all his 'teacher' is telling him in.

 

"Kamikaze pilots don't get second chances. Think about it."

 

Jay 'toasts' to Maddix with his Pepsi Max (shill) as he walks off, leaving Maddix to re-muse over his notepad. So far, the sum total of Maddix's offensive strategies is pitiful, at best. In a way, it's just what it's meant to be. Offensive. Just, not the right way. Leaning back in his chair, Maddix sighs, dropping his pencil once more and glancing around.

 

"I hate it when he's right."