Mistakes

[Juan Ramirez]

(Best of luck to Raza in his first Mania!)

“FBI, EVERYBODY STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY! AND BY FBI I DON’T MEAN FULL BLODDED ITALIAN… Although my last name is Marasciulo… Hmm… WHATEVER!”

A loud thud was heard as Trent had Kicked the door of their WrestleMania hotel room open. Apparently the protege of the Thrillseekers was thrilled to be at the grandest stage of them all. He tossed his luggage inside the room yelling “I CALL DIBS ON THE TOP BUNK!”, The camera panned out of the hall that lead to the room to show a couple of single beds.

Trent: Where are the bunk beds?

Lance Storm walked into the room, came to a halt and put his hands on his hips, taking it all in.

Lance Storm: Thank fuck for that. And no, we’re not pushing them together.

Trent: How about one on top of the other?

Lance Storm: How about you stay here while I go and stay in the top suite with Chris? I deserve it…

Lance started mumbling to himself.

Lance Storm: ...stupid wife… stupid kids…

Trent: Stupid Sami Zayn… Don’t forget about him.

Lance apparently came to his senses.

Lance Storm: Correct. He ruined our plan. Our wonderful plan to fingerpoke-of-doom our way into Wrestlemania history. Now we have to actually make an effort. Hey, two-on-one though, right?

Trent: Of course brah.

Lance walked over to his bed and took a seat on it, placing his small suitcase by his feet. Trent grabbed his truckload of luggage and opened it, dragging a world of cables and consoles to hook them up against the TV of his room… He poked his head in the back of the television.

Trent: DA FUCK? ONLY 4 HDMI PORTS? I BET THAT SAMI ZAYN DUDE HAS 10 HDMI PORTS IN HIS STUPID SUITE. CURSE HIM! Anger is boiling in my veins every second, Lance… It’s like everything bad that has happened to me is because of Sami Zayn!

Lance looked deep in thought.

Lance Storm: Huge...diplomatic...money...investigation? There’s 4 of those?

Trent: I’d have to switch ports everytime I want to play a different console of the 7 consoles I brought. Someone has got to PAY for this.

Lance still looked a bit puzzled.

Lance Storm: EBWF are paying for this, Trent. WES IS! AWESOME!

Lance jumped to his feet and flipped Trent’s bed over.

Lance Storm: Let’s trash the place!

Trent: Listen, Lance… I’m all for vandalism and shit… I was even going to suggest you superkick this Television to the seventh circle of hell… But I’ve got a better idea. Do you know what else Wes pays? Sami Zayn’s salary. We can break every bone in his body, we can make him into chopped liver and unlike this room, no matter how much cash Wes coughs up, he won’t be able to rebuild him.

Lance Storm: I like your thinking - I’ve taught you well. We beat him to within an inch of his life… EBWF picks up the medical bill! However, I’m sensing your dislike of Sami runs a lot deeper than mine…

Trent turned his head to the side dramatically.

Trent: It does… But I shall now divulge that right now… I rather choose to do it during a complicated, lengthy promo. This is not a sleepover or a pajama party, brah.

Lance had just opened his suitcase but immediately closed it, hiding his Harry Potter pyjamas.

Lance Storm: Well it is Wrestlemania week. I’m sure they’ve got us down for a shitload of media. What’re we down for? TV shows? Radio? Eating the divas?

Trent: Uhh… Well… I think we are on autograph signing… Group D or something, I believe we’re in group A, aka those guys who sign autographs while kids are at school and adults at work, we’re also signing autographs as a couple… Another reason why we should go into this match as a Tag team and destroy Zayn.

Lance Storm: I can’t say I’m surprised. They don’t want our beautiful faces upstaging Ziggler and AJ’s.

Trent: That hottie slammy of the year is mine already, Pfft. Sami Zayn isn’t even nominated.

Lance looked infuriated.

Lance Storm: AND NEITHER AM I. THEY KEEP US OFF TV? OFF OF THE RED CARPET? THEY KEEP ME OF ALL PEOPLE OFF OF HOTTIE OF THE YEAR? TRENT.

He got up and shoved Trent.

Lance Storm: LETS GO MAKE OUR OWN MEDIA.

And he stormed out of the room.

_________________________________________________________

Another loud thud was heard, the door of another hotel room swung open as a chuckle was heard in the background... The lights of the room where lit up, whoever was holding the camera paced into the room, the camera lens panned around the room... A room similar to the one we had seen Lance and Trent in, only smaller... The camera focused on the name of the bag which clearly read "SAMI ZAYN".

Trent: Bingo.

Our hero rested the camera so that it would face the bed where the Number one contender for the intercontinental title slept... He cannonballed onto the bed, wearing a T-shirt which read "TRENT?" a black baseball cap tilted backwards and cargo shorts.

Trent: Sami, Sami Zayn... You're just too fun to watch! Too fun to listen! Too fun to berate and to poke fun at! No wonder why I was bullying material back in high school. I want to thank you again for giving me the opportunity to have a match with you... You see, you might be thinking you crashed the party, you think you saved WrestleMania with your presence... I'm going to burst that bubble right now and let you in on a little secret... No one could give less fucks that you, Sami Zayn are on Mania or not... And I'm not saying this out of jealousy or envy... I have been a part of WrestleMania before, as a matter of fact I am undefeated at WrestleMania with an astonishing 1-0... Which means I am THE ONE in ONE AND NEIL. I guess that makes you the ZERO in ZERO and ZERO... So many ZEROS, although not as many as my paycheck as Intercontinental champion. Which reminds me... Do you actually think I am going to let go of my title that easily? For starters, I have a bigger room than yours... I have SO MUCH MEDIA EVENTS. SO. MUCH. I CAN'T EVEN ATTEND IT ALL! I have radio interviews, chats with the president, I have to eat the divas, tuck the divas in bed, read the divas a bedtime story... Life is busy when you're a champion! Life is good when you are a champion! And that is a lesson I have learned the hard way... You DON'T let ANYONE get near your title. You fight for your title TO DEATH.

Trent hopped his feet as well as he got comfortable on his opponent's bed.

Trent: Now, let me get something out of the way, Sami... This is absolutely nothing personal between you and I, there is no bad blood, there is nothing... The only person I hate right now is in this very room, laying on the bed Wes Ikeda thoughtfully paid for you. That's right. I hate myself... I hate myself because my own actions were the ones that prevented me from skyrocketing through the EBWF ranks like I should have... My righteous desires and my constant mindset where I looked to please everyone were my ultimate doom. OPEN YOUR EYES SAMI! SNAP OUT OF IT! Today you're their hero, today you're on top of the world because they want you to be! If they feel like making you a sock puppeteer for sh#ts and giggles tomorrow, they will do so! You don't owe the people ANYTHING Sami! ANYTHING! You don't need to devote yourself to them! They all want to know what you had for breakfast, they all want to know if you will win your next match, they all want to know where are you headed next, they all want to take their picture with you... But when have they ever asked if you're tired, if you're physically hurt, if you're feeling alright, if you're having a good day... NOTHING! You are nothing but a tool for their entertainment! They tune in week in and week out, sit on their lardy asses to devour whatever cheap economy size chips they have and just wait for you to make their day... Is that fair? Sami... I promise I won't stop gobstopping you in the skull until my ideas find their nest there. You're so much better than them... You don't need them! Jericho has stepped on national flags, he has berated people all around the globe, yet again his band is bigger than the Beatles, if the Beatles were bigger than Chris, Lance and I, his podcast numbers blow through the roof, his books are amongst the best sellers from the new york times... What I'm trying to say to you is: At the end of the day people will recognize and remember you for what you do, not for how much you have pleased them... Trust me, that is a lesson I've learned in the flesh.

Trent's threw his arms towards the back of his head.

Trent: You haven't done anything special, Sami. By the time my first WrestleMania match happened I had been undefeated for 6 months in single matches... You will be standing in the ring with Lance and Myself at WrestleMania not because you kicked the door down and jumped in, but because Lance and I lured you in the perfect moment. Yeah, we used the Intercontinental title as bait to make you come out... It is because I know you, and because I see you are committing the same mistakes I made when I first started my career here, that I chose to lure you out. You would not resist the taunt of having me not only beat you, but tarnish the legacy of the only bit of tangible success you have had in EBWF... You didn't disappoint, Sami. You came out, guns blazing, you thought you made an opportunity for yourself, you thought you were going to get back what was rightfully yours... Sorry to bring your back to reality, but I just felt like the lesson I tried to teach you last time we met didn't go through... And I wasn't mistaken.

Trent sat up and aimed at the camera with his index finger.

Trent: You're still fighting for others, you're still fighting to please other people besides yourself, you are nothing but a people pleaser, and people pleasers fade into obscurity when they stop pleasing people. Sami, I'll face you and hurt you as many times as necessary, because I think you are a terrific competitor... You are just wasting time making the world a better place for others, while you could make it your playground. Lance and I had talked about this over and over again... The three of us, we think you are one tough son of a bitch... However, with your current mindset, with your current people pleasing costumes, you are nothing but a glass cannon, one that I will be more than willing to break with a Crunchy Driver. One that will also break with a Super Kick or a canadian maple leaf or a Superkick to the jaw and a knee to the bad of the head, our super amazing cool finisher we still haven't named yet. This is not a fight against a part time Wrestler like the Rock or a stoner like AJ Styles, Lance and I are serious wrestlers, artists if you will! It will take more than your little dance and kicks to keep us off your neck... And if you really want to prove you are larger than life, if you really want to make it big time in EBWF you will have to be ready for everything, wether its me and Lance tenderizing you, Chris Jericho interfering or my knee brusing your head badly!

Trent rested his hands on his knees as he remained seated.

Trent: Sami, the odds are stacked against you in so many ways... And I'm not talking about how this is practically a handicap match, about how Lance and I will cohesively work to annihilate your chances of becoming champion... I'm not talking about how Lance and I are both former world champions... I'm talking about that Mr. Goody shoes routine that will not take you anywhere but to the Emergency Room every single time a more astute and hungry superstar feels like offending you. Sami, you might not see this right now, but Chris Jericho, Lance Storm and me just wish the best for you... You can think of this as tough love. I do believe you will mature one day to become the biggest champion the EBWF has ever seen, but right now there's so much you still have to learn about yourself and about those lousy cash cows we call 'fans'.


Trent stood from the bed, which was really a mess after he laid there for quite a while. As a homage to one of his mentors, Trent reached out and swiftly took the camera out with a superkick. Trent's feet could be seen as he walked out of the room and the scene faded to black.