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The Night Wrestling Remembered; LSD vs Andreas Lasiewicz
Topic Started: Dec 31 2016, 04:06 PM (98 Views)
Ash

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December 28, 2016
SAN DIEGO, CA


“Of all the things I tell you to take seriously-- and you don’t take seriously-- this should probably be the one thing.”

Lani San Diego sat cross-legged on her couch, looking back at her pizza delivery guy with a bored expression. He sat on her floor, leaning back on his palms, still in full uniform. He smelled like turkey sausage. He was sweating. It was disgusting.

“Yeahhhh, I mean, I totally am though! Kinda blown that everyone’s trying to say I’m not.” Lani rolled her eyes, examining her nails as she went on. “Like, I’ll be honest, okay; nooo, I haven’t followed his every step. I meeean… he’s been wrestling or ‘fighting’ for basicallyyy my whole life. I’ve been doing shit my whole life, Dominic! I was busy. Doing shit.”

Dominic the pizza guy nodded. “I understand! But I mean, this whole street fighting thing? That’s like, his gig. He started off doing this traveling in Poland or something.” Dominic paused, eyes growing wide. “Your friend Evan worked with him before, right?”

“Uuuugh, like nine years ago or something. Can’t reach him though. Pretty sure Molly Reid took his life.”

“That's a shame,” Dominic said quietly. “I hear he was a beacon of hope for vegan-Americans.”

“Uh. Yeah. Obviously the world wasn't ready.”

Dominic pushed himself to his feet, glancing at his watch. ”How long have I been here? Like, five m--?”

”Like twenty-five minutes.”

”Twent-- shit.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. ”I guess I shoulda delivered those za’s first.”

”You chose this life.”

Dominic nodded, knowingly. ”I did.” He made his way toward the front door and Lani followed eagerly behind, more-than-prepared to rid her house of the unforgiving smell of sausage grease. Dominic stopped short of the doorway though and pivoted on his heel, eyes growing wide again. ”Oh shit! I have something for you! Wait right here.”

He turned, bolting out the door while Lani tiredly turned, placing her back to the wall, simply to have something to lean against. She’d kept the worst of it to herself while he was inside, but his visit hadn’t done jack-shit to calm her nerves. She clenched and unclenched her fists, neck growing hot, heart seeming to skip a beat every time she Andreas’ face swam through her mind.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar feeling. She’d felt the same in the past when she looked at Marissa Kane. She felt it worse when she thought of Dexter Jacobs. And perhaps that one would never fade.

This was different though. This wasn’t something she’d faced before and learned to be afraid of. This was the completely uninitiated. This was blindness. This--

SLAM!

”What the fuck, dude?”

The uncharacteristic phrase spilled out of Lani’s mouth as she jumped away from the noise-- and Dominic stood in the doorway, apologetically. ”Sorry. Door got stuck. Here.” He held a small, gray book out toward Lani. She accepted it, looking over it with a raised brow. Dominic explained before she had to ask. ”I have a couple of them because of my boss. But it’s a Polish-to-English dictionary. Translates. Gives you meanings. Has a cute little thesaurus in the back pages. Check it out. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

Lani nodded a little, flipping absently through the pages. ”Yeah. Thanks.”

”Catch you later.”

Dominic turned, slapping the doorway as a farewell, pulling the door shut behind him. Lani watched as his taillights eventually pulled out of the driveway. Her eyes drifted back down toward the small, gray book and she turned, dragging her feet back into the living room.

Posted Image

December 31, 2016
SAN DIEGO, CA


Znam Cię.

That’s how you say it, right? Or really, really close to it:

I know who you are.”


We faded into a world of color. The afternoon sun high above San Diego shone brightly on the jacarandas visible through the open window. We could see that we were in a reading room or a study. Though the room appeared vacant, a mug of tea sat unattended on the single coffee table before the camera. Somewhere beyond the frame, we heard the voice-- the voice that distinctly belongs to Lani San Diego-- once again.

”And I don’t mean liiike, ‘oh, I’ve heard the name’, but I’ve seen you. I’ve watched you. I never made a huge point to take time out of my day and do it but I did because it was almost unavoidable. Aaaand… maybe at the time, I thought it was important. Longevity in this business usually means importance, or like, at least persistence. And that isn’t something you should ignore.

Sooo as much as I joke about it, I didn’t ignore the things you did. I watched when you were one of the Godfathers of Wrestling with Gambino and Scott, walking around like this permanent super-emo stupid look tattooed on your face because you got shitcanned by GDW. I probably would’ve shitcanned you too because have YOOOUUU ever had a conversation with you? It’s like going to a funeral seven days in a row, but all condensed into a few meaningless sentences. Ew, no one wants that hanging around the workplace, no matter how many people you’ve ‘broken’ or how many countries you’ve been to.

But I’m just speculating!”


We heard footsteps beyond the lens, but still couldn't see Lani San Diego in front of us.

”No need to dwell on that murky time in the life of Lasiewicz though. THAT would be petty!

I actually got really interested in that record you were telling me about on Twitter a week or so back though. I meeean, at first I was like ‘uuughh, I don’t care’ because UUUUGHHH, I did not care. But it bothered me just enough. Like it reeeeally bugged the shit out of me and I did some research. And if I’m not totally misplaced here, the last time you lost a pay-per-view match was… mmmm…

Almost twelve years ago right? January 20th, 2005… an Elimination Chamber match in that company that I sooo am not gonna dwell on. That was the one that got you, right? It HAD to be that monstrosity. It only makes sense. I mean-- what else could take down the Morning Star? What else could chink the armor of the GREAT fucking Andreas Lasiewicz? THAT…

...that is some kind of pressure!”


Pause. No visibility.

”And then I got to thinking even more; why would you even feel you should mention it in the first place? Becauuuse… last I checked, our little dance takes place on an episode of Redemption; not a pay-per-view. Whatever superstitious shit you were clinging to isn’t even relevant to the match. It’s almost boasting for boasting’s sake! It's a reminder that you’ve covered distances few people in the business ever have and you've backed up your words in some of the biggest fights of your life-- this, I will give you. I guessss.

It's also a reminder that you turn it up when it really, really counts. And I don't know if this really, REALLY counts for you. I don’t know what the fuck all this even means to you. I don't know if-- no, I doubt-- you look at Lani San Diego across from your name on the card and get the same vibes that I do and that pisses me off.

Because I'm fucking excited, Andy! But youuu…?”


Finally, Lani San Diego stepped into frame, visible from only the neck-down at first before she finally plopped down onto the beanbag chair behind the coffee table, facing the camera with a calm expression. She lacked any type of makeup, putting her many freckles on full display, and her hair in curls behind her shoulder. She held a gray, hardcover book in her hand, gently flipping through pages before stopping toward the center. With eyes narrowed at the page in deep focus, she said:

”Niepowodzenie.”

She wrinkled her nose a bit, looking up to the lens in amusement while she closed the book.

”THAT’S a weird word! And it's like, suuuper Polish but I bet you're not very familiar with it. At least not hearing it. You know what it meeeans thooough!”

Her lips gave way to a wry smirk.

”Means failure. That one probably sounds foreign to you, especially now with everything you’ve done, but it'll echo through your head on repeat when this is all over. And like, okay, everyone is probably all like, WHERE OH WHERE does all this confidence come from, Lani? And I'm not saying you're not a legend. I'm not saying your twenty-plus years as an active wrestler aren't impressive and intimidating and persistent but your records just reflect what you do. They don't define it.

I can’t take away what you did but I can make sure it doesn’t happen at my expense. That’s all I can control and all I ever claimed to control.

I meeean, let me ask you directly, Andy… does it even feel real to you? Are you going through the motions ‘because you can’ like you always say to people? Is it the same tired shit I’ve been watching? Did the trophy case not look big enough? Did your colleagues get bored of hearing the same list of accomplishments? Is this REALLY what the beginning of a strong, solid run looks like? Are you actually the next Phoenix Wrestling Rebirth Champion? At forty years old, I’m not knocking your abilities in the ring because I’ve already seeeeen this channel, okay? I’ve dealt with people like Legacy. I’ve seen what Johnny Rebel is capable of, to this day, when you all SHOULD be relics from the 90’s and nothing more. I would never question your ability to go.

I do question your ability to stay.

This championship means shit to you. It’s another magnet on your fridge of career accomplishments. You’ve already done all this. Everywhere.

Sure. I coouulld eat my words and you could show up with this fire in your eyes that’s been burning for two decades or some shit. You could beat your way through Lani San Diego and every other name that fills these brackets and this could be the beginning of an era nooooobody saw coming. I am FULLY at grips with the possibility that could happen.

But on its face, you can’t expect me to believe the end of this tournament drives you the way it drives me.

Liiike. You’ve fought in Vegas. You’ve been through here, many, many times, but… but me? Andy, I have lived and fucking died in Las Vegas. I didn’t build the career you did worldwide and I never built the same stories you did because I didn’t have time. But I’ve had some of the nastiest fights of my life in Vegas. I’ve brought careers to a screeching halt in Vegas. I had my career put on hold in Vegas because Dexter Jacobs thought the wrestling world was better without Lani San Diego. Twice. Still here though, everyone’s prayers be damned!

The only thing left, Andy, is to be reborn in Las Vegas.

You are gonna help sooo much with that.”


Lani drummed her fingers on the tabletop for a moment as she bit her lip, looking away from the camera to consider something.

”I see people you’ve trained, like Kamijo and Lady Magdalena and I get why people change their tone just when they talk about you. Even though this is a street fight, and you’re totally used to that kind of thing, everyone always praises you for your wrestling. It’s not lost on me that you’re well-rounded. You don’t get caught off guard like these kids get caught off guard. I get that.

But when it comes to these kinds of fights, I’ve never known a ceiling in my fucking life, Andy. Threats from Lani San Diego don’t SOUND like threats from Andreas fucking Lasiewicz but think about how opinions could change after Night Two. People have told me that they were fucking laughing at the thought of me even MAKING IT to a second round. People have treated this like I’m walking into an execution instead of a fucking wrestling ring.

I am a fucking wrestler in case everyone forgot and I am damn good at it.”


Her smile had all but faded. Finally, Lani pushed herself to the feet, leaning forward with her palms at the edge of the table, glaring into the lens.

”I know who you are. I know what you’ve done to people. But yooouu barely know a thing about me.

People like Faith are Tweeting you goddamn requests to break my fingers. People like Chris Strike are Tweeting you requests to KILL me, because that’s mature! But nobody is taking the time to talk about the things I could do. And you know what? Fu-CKING FINE. No one has any right to be shocked when I do exactly what I said I would but they will be anyway. You will be.

I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you fail and you have to come to terms with failure, Andy. THAAAT is a personal accomplishment. That is a priority. That gets me one step closer to being your Iron ‘King.’

Buuut… I hate to admit this… but there’s a super petty side that I like to keep under wraps. And that side wants to see the lock of shock on everyone’s faces when it’s MY hand getting raised in Las Vegas, NOT yours. I can’t wait to see so many fucking people eat their words. I’m excited, Andy.

I’m excited.”


She took a breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She sank back down into a seated position on the beanbag chair positioned before the camera.

”See you laaater, Andyyy…”

Lani reached forward to kill the feed, but paused, a smirk crossing her lips one final time before she lowered her eyes toward the lens.

”Dobranoc. Siłą.”

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fin.

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