Cameras are rolling on the backstage interview set, mere hours before Warfare. Matt Striker is performing vocal exercises and making small talk with the crew while they wait for the next interviewee to arrive. “You guys are union, aren’t you? Yeah. I’m trying to get into the Screen Actors Guild, they still don’t count this as being an actor. But to me, that means it must be a sport, right? You can’t have it both ways. Treat us like a sport or treat us like a TV show, you know? Ahhhh. Is David here today? Someone should go track David down before he gets here, David’s a big fan, you know? He was a tape trader, how cool is that? You guys are too young, you don’t know the tape trading game. My head is killing me, could we get a writing assistant to make a pharmacy run? That’s what they’re good for. Is he coming? He’s around the corner? Alright, so probably like ten minutes, if there could be aspirin here in ten minutes, that would be swell.”
The interviewer brings his microphone to his mouth and faces the camera with a smile. “This is Matt Striker with an EBWF.com preshow exclusive. My guest at this time, Shinsuke Nakamura.”
The King of Strong Style walks into frame with a puzzled look on his face and phone in his hand. Striker leans towards him. “Nakamura, at Aftermath you once again came up short in a multi-man championship match, what have you taken away from that loss?”
Shinsuke looks from cameraman to sound engineer and then back at Striker. “Who are you?”
Striker pauses. “Matt Striker. I announced two WrestleKingdoms, I was maybe ten feet away from you. I’ve passed you at least once in every arena you’ve been at since coming to EBWF. Matt Striker.”
Nakamura looks back at the crew. “Where is Blonde Girl?” The crew laughs. “Rat Face?” He turns to Striker again. “Okay, Speedbag, you will have to do then. What do you want to learn from the King today?”
Striker shakes the strange new nickname off. “I was asking how you felt coming out of your loss at Aftermath?”
Shinsuke places his phone in Striker’s pocket. “That is a strange question. You always ask that question, and it never stops being strange. How many ways can one feel after a loss? Not good. If it felt food, it would not have been a loss, yes? No, before you were asking, what did I take away from my loss, that was a better question, you thought Nakamura was ignoring you but his senses are sharp, ha!
They changed the plot on me again, I should have prepared differently. I am only learning how to handle being in these matches with multiple opponents, and now I have to decide if it is one fall or many falls and change my strategy, don’t I? They are keeping me on my toes, Speedbag, but I am a magnificent dancer, and gold is within my grasp.”
Striker nods. “This evening you go back to more comfortable ground, you’ll be in one-on-one action against the Phenomenal A.J. Styles.”
Nakamura blinks at him a few times. “You forgot to ask me a question. This is why I prefer Blonde Girl, she seems to be much better prepared than the rest of you.”
A flustered Striker shoots down giggling crew members. “What do you have to say about your match tonight?”
Shinsuke pulls his phone out of Striker’s pocket, places it in his hand, and presses play on a preloaded video before taking the microphone away from him.
[bbvideo=560,315]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qRpdRwqTg4[/bbvideo]
Nakamura points at the screen. “That is what I have to say. A.J., we have only fought once, and it was an epic encounter. They must be hoping we capture the magic again because they’ve put us into the main event! You are one of the greatest athletes in the world today, that much is true. The Speedbag here said it already, they call you Phenomenal. That means your skills are…extraordinary, almost supernatural. I have seen you do things in the ring that seem impossible. But we have only ever met once. And I won.
Now our roles are a bit reversed, eh? In Japan you were the intruder, here in EBWF you have established yourself and I am the cracks growing in the foundation. You’ve held every title there is to hold here, just as I did in Japan. You are considered one of the very best in the company, just as I was in Japan. But we are both hungry now. You’re so close to being world champion again, A.J., and this company would be lucky to have you. You need to beat me to stay strong. I need to beat you to jump ahead in line. Neither of us can afford to lose this match, and I can tell you now that I am not going to.”
Matt Striker points at the screen. “You can see me, right here in the corner, I was announcing this event. You know me.”
Nakamura places a finger on his mouth to the continued amusement of the crew. “Quiet, Speedbag, the King is still speaking. A.J., you have heard the crowd roar when my music hits. They know that when I enter the ring, something…special is about to happen, they are going to see a master at work. All over the world, they come to see Nakamura. Out in that arena tonight, they will be electric. It will be like nothing you have heard in a long time. Do not let it throw you off your game. I want to beat you at your best, just like before. Hit me hard, A.J., hold nothing back, because I never do. Ask the trail of broken faces leading to this night, I will give my all.”
Striker leans over to be picked up by the microphone. “But your three pay-per-view appearances HAVE come up short, and some critics claim you may be too focused on artistry and less on winning.”
Nakamura pulls the microphone away and stares at Striker. “Do you know why I call you Speedbag? It is because your face is very punchable.” Striker slowly leans back to off-camera guffaws and Nakamura turns back to the camera. “Are you telling..eh…Van Gogh to use duller colors? Are you telling Mozart write fewer songs? Are you telling Sylvie Guillem put your leg down and quit jumping so high? Indeed I am an artist, and wrestling is the greatest art there is! The crowd knows that already, that is why they cannot wait to see me. And A.J. knows that already, that is why he better be preparing for this match like it was for the title.
A.J., did I ever tell you the story of the Boma Ye? You have felt it, so many have felt it, but they do not all know the place I have given them in history. In Kinshasha, in the Congo, Ali and Frasier, the greatest fight of all time. As the true champion of the world faced his most daunting foe, the crowd rallied behind him. ‘Ali, bomaye. Ali, bomaye. Kill him. Kill him. Win. Win.’ I go in to every fight as if it is the biggest in my life, as if I am the true champion of the world facing my greatest test, because in my mind I am. And as the crowd sees that the end is approaching, their pulses race, and the heartbeats of the arena ring in my ear, the pulses pounding out ‘Shinsuke, bomaye. Shinsuke ,bomaye.’ Faster and louder. ‘SHINSUKE, BOMAYE. SHINSUKE, BOMAYE.’ And then just like that, it is over. Tonight, A.J., you will hear your heart pounding in your ears, and you will know it is only a matter of time.
Wrestling is the greatest art there is. Tonight, we make another masterpiece. Yeaoh.”
