Opportunities

[Cory]

The Spirit Center, Kansas City, Missouri. 2:38 PM.

The gym. The nice, quiet and peaceful gym. There was one in virtually every arena they went to for a television show or a PPV event, and if Randy got there early enough he'd have it all to himself. This was one of those days. It was an easy trip to get here from St. Louis, only a couple hundred miles as the crow flies. Most of the other talent would use local gyms in the area that had more equipment, but Randy didn't need equipment for this workout. He inhaled and exhaled sharply as he completed a set of modified push-ups, designed to put the burden of his weight on his shoulders. His forearms were flush with the ground and he pushed himself up by his shoulder muscles alone, exercising the source of many of his most common injuries in the world of professional wrestling. Randy's well defined upper chest and back muscles weren't a product of vanity, nor were they way to keep himself remarkable when put on television, though it certainly didn't hurt. It was a necessity for his quality of life. Being cursed with hypermobile shoulders meant that Randy had to keep himself in peak physical form just to make sure he wasn't in agonizing pain all the time. Any lapse in routine and he could find himself in the hospital, having his dislocated shoulder popped back into place, and that was not a pleasant experience.

It was another Sunday before another PPV event. Another town in another part of the country, where he would have another match with another set of people. His focus wasn't on those people. It was on his shoulders. It was on his beautiful wife, Nikki. It was on his child Karlee. In fact, it was on just about anything but the fatal four way match that he would be participating in tonight. Normally Randy spent a good portion of time focusing on the match at hand, working through the plan for the match in his mind over and over again, but those thoughts weren't coming to him now. Quite the opposite, every time he even felt the glimmer of of a train of thought directing him toward his match, something else was there to snatch his attention away. How many more reps do I have to go? I have to remember to call the lawn guy and give him hell for not edging the left side of the house. I also need to call that kids gymanstics center for Karlee. Will want to think about registering soon.

Randy's scattershot train of thought poofed away in an instant when someone opened the door to the gym he was in. Randy resumed his shoulder exercises quietly, not bothering to look up. The person spoke up, however, and his voice was unmistakable.

Paul Heyman: Huh. Taking the phrase "first guy to arrive, last to leave" a little seriously, aren't we? Are we going for the John Cena reputation?

Randy's shoulders stopped, and Paul could hear a small scoff come from him.

Randy Orton: The things I could tell you about the John Cena "reputation" would surprise even you, Paul.

Randy pushed himself up and stood up completely, grabbing a towel. He blotted his shoulders and back dry, then draped the towel around his neck. He was in just a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes. Paul however was in one of his trademark suits. Randy nodded at his attire.

Randy Orton: I'm guessing that you're not here to use the lat bar, assuming it even works. So, what can I do for you?

Paul smiled and took a seat at a bench that was close by to wear Randy was standing.

Paul Heyman: I'll get right to it then. I'm concerned, Randy.

Randy walked over to his gym bag and produced a one-liter water bottle that he took a thorough drink of before capping it and setting it aside. He sat down and started drying himself off more thoroughly with the towel.

Randy Orton: Is this about the Rated RKO promos? I thought we had autonomy on that. If you guys want us to scale it back...

Paul Heyman: Heavens, no. When you and Adam cut promos, they are easily the highest viewed thing on our Youtube page by far.

Randy Orton: I'll bite then. What kind of concerns?

Paul Heyman: Well, it's kind of hard to say. Randy, what I'm going to say is going to sound like brown-nosing, but on your worst day you have the ability to produce a match that has the quality that most people on this roster aspire to have on their best day.

Randy Orton: That is true.

Paul Heyman: So, believe me that I am not worried about a lapse in your technical aptitude. In fact, I'm pretty sure I could pump you full of prescription ambien and send you out there and you would have a four star match.

Randy Orton: That is also true. I sense a "but coming."

Paul Heyman: But, I'm worried that your head isn't in the game.

Randy was silent very briefly as he thought that over.

Randy Orton: And would that be a problem, since I put on such good matches regardless?

Paul Heyman: Randy, you know as well as I do that match quality is only a small part of the product. This show is at its best when everyone is engaged and feeling inspired. I'm able to put on a great program when I am able to showcase everyone's strengths. Your strengths go far beyond your ability to hit the RKO from "out of nowhere".

Paul did the air quotes.

Paul Heyman: You're not Dolph Ziggler. You're more than just a good hand that we can put out there for pointless filler every week. You know as well as I do that you have more to contribute than what we're getting.

Randy Orton: You'd have to talk to one of the heads of creative about that. Hang on...

Randy looked at Paul with an expression of sarcastic surprise.

Randy Orton: That's you!

Heyman sighed.

Paul Heyman: Randy, I'm on your side. In fact, you don't have a single detractor amongst the people on the thirtieth floor. But you know what I'm saying is true. You work your match, you get on the first thing smoking back home, and then you're gone until you pop up on the card again. You're capable of a much more significant contribution to the program. Yes, I could make sure you're booked every week. I could put you in meaningless angles without any chance of an interesting conclusion if I wanted to, but what would that change?

Randy Orton: Paul, what's going on here. I'm a team player and you know it. I show up when I'm needed, and I put the guys over that you want me to put over. There's value in that.

Paul Heyman: Since when was Randy Orton content with just showing up and putting guys over?

Randy Orton: Look, you can't have me running up and down the main event all the time. Need to share it with the Sami Zayns and the Mizs of the world, otherwise they just drown themselves in their own inferiority.

Paul Heyman: With all due respect Randy, you're a grown ass man and you know that is the biggest load of horseshit you've ever said in your life.

Randy smirked.

Randy Orton: Maybe not the biggest.

Paul turned to face Randy. He narrowed his eyes as he looked him over.

Paul Heyman: You want to know what I think?

Randy Orton: I'm dying to find out.

Paul Heyman: I think you're bored. I think you know it's going to be a cold day in hell before someone beats your World Championship reign. I think you look at your insuffrably long tag team title reign, your various bouts with the Intercontinental Championship, your multiple King of the Ring wins, your Wrestlemania main events, and you're bored. Sure, you've got a bucket list item or two left to scratch off like the Royal Rumble, but you're just going through the motions because you think you've got nothing else of value to accomplish.

Randy stood up. He grabbed his gym bag and zipped it up, then turned towards Paul.

Randy Orton: Maybe you're right, but I know what you're trying to do. I get it. And maybe this worked on the guys in ECW back in the day when you wanted them to go out there and kill themselves to pop a big rating on TNN, but it's not going to work for me. I know what happens when I ask to get involved in a storyline. I become a second fiddle to CM Punk in a giant freakshow like the Elite, or I become the de facto guy to take out the Shield for no apparent reason or justification on television. Maybe you wouldn't do that, Paul. But your friends in the creative room sure would. So forgive me if I'm not chomping at the bit to find a more relevant spot on the card.

Paul shook his head as Randy walked past him, heading for the door. Randy got as far as opening the door and crossing the threshold before he stopped. He exhaled audibly.

Randy Orton: Let me get through this thing tonight, and then we'll talk.

Paul nodded silently as Randy left the gym.

~~~~~~~~~

EBWF.net Exclusive - July 31st, 2016

The scene faded up on an EBWF logo backdrop somewhere backstage at the Spirit Center in Kansas City. What normally would be the image of Renee Young or Michael Cole holding a mic. Instead, it was just Randy Orton in a pair of jeans and his new EBWF RKO t-shirt. He was holding the interview mic, alone and centered in the shot.

Randy Orton: Hello, EBWF Universe. Normally I have Renee Young here with me, because one day she decided to show up in the EBWF and suddenly people forgot that Michael Cole exists, and that Matt Striker is a real person. Justin Roberts was actually scheduled to be here, but I hate him. So, I took his microphone and threatened to put his face through the drywall if he didn't walk away. That seemed to be more than enough convincing to let me handle this on my own. Now, it's just me. Good old me, and I'm here to talk about opportunities. Tonight is an opportunity, one that I was lucky enough to receive this week. I've had many opportunities in my career. Once I had the opportunity to become the longest reigning EBWF World Champion in history. Another time I had an opportunity to carry the tag team titles with Edge for longer than either of us care to admit. Another time I had the opportunity to set Christy Hemme on fire. That one I missed out on. In just a couple of hours, I will be going out to that ring out there, and I am going to wrestle The Miz, Cesaro, and Syxx for a number one contendership at the EBWF Path to Glory Championship. Now...

Randy paused for a moment. He looked a little sheepish.

Randy Orton: I don't really know who any of those people are. But that's okay, because there's an advantage to being the best wrestler this business has ever seen. No matter who you're up against, you're still going to be the best. I've been in the EBWF for seven years. Seven. That seems like a fairly short time in the grand scheme of things. In that time, I've had a career that most people would kill for. Both of Miz's title reigns don't come close to beating one of mine in terms of length. Cesaro just got here, and Syxx thinks he's going to sniff the World Championship at his age, and he's as delusional as that woman he's parading around with.

He smirked a little and put his hands up.

Randy Orton: Okay, so maybe I do know a little about my opponents tonight. I know that the Miz pulled off a miracle in the King of the Ring and managed to beat me, and I know that he likes to make topical celebrity references like he's a TMZ reporter. Syxx spends his entire wrestling paycheck on props for his next promo, and Cesaro... he...

Randy snapped his fingers a few times.

Randy Orton: No, nope. I really don't know who he is. I do know, however, what is at stake tonight. The Path to Glory Championship itself doesn't interest me. What does interest me is the opportunity it affords. It gives me the opportunity to finally get Sami Zayn in the ring, one on one. I will finally be able to RKO that smug ginger so far into the mat, that they'll need to pull it apart to get him out. Also, I will have an opportunity to get a crack at the belt that's eluded me the last few years. The title that calls to me. It is the EBWF World Championship. The Path to Glory title is prestigious, but it's a gateway drug. The Path to Glory is my chance at putting the World Championship around my waist and affirming a fact that I've known since 2004, yet some people have chosen to forget.

He smirked confidently.

Randy Orton: Randy Orton is, has been, and forever will be, the best.

He winked at the camera as he dropped the mic and walked off. The scene faded to black.

[Juan Ramirez]

Yes Randy, you know how hard it is to promo against a guy who is a good husband, a good dad, is rarely booked but when he is, he steals the show? Jesus.