Introduction to sports entertainment

jOlt Intense 35

[Joined in progress....]

"Payback" plays once more, drawing a cheer from the fans in attendance. Knight holds up a fist, before dropping from the ring. As he strolls towards the back, Steven Denton slowly picks up the pieces in the ring, using the ropes for leverage. He looks around himself at the curious eyes, and loyal jOlt fans. He had failed, and failed miserably... and everyone had seen. How the hell could he have any sort of future now? Denton regained consciousness and walked up the ramp dizzy as could be while Lance Knight celebrated his much deserved win.

And then....Strange music to jOlt fans' ears. It's fast and loud. And followed by rapid-fire explosions at the entryway. And from behind the smoke, out steps a man, a stranger to regular jOlt followers. He is wearing a black T-shirt with a picture of a television set sandwiched by the words jOlting TV in white. He is also wearing white camouflage style pants and black boots. A black winter hat is on his head and black sunglasses cover his eyes. He looks for the nearest camera and smiles into it. He looks around at the fans, holding the wicked smile for a few more seconds. And oh yes, he has a microphone. He signals for the deafening music to shut off. The fans are indifferent, unsure who the stranger is.

"Finally, the Sports Entertainment Icon has an audience. Finally, you unlucky fans who have been following this company have a reason to watch your television week after week. All the bad gimmicks. All the boring interviews. All the mid-card talent pretending to be main eventers. Today starts the dawn of a new era in jOlt. A dawn of jOlting TV. For now you all have a reason to watch your TVs. Your new TV champion has arrived. And his name, is Trey Vincent."

He takes a bow. He pretty much receives indifference from the crowd.

Knight, standing in center ring and looking more than a little worn down after his match with Graphic Violence, simply stares at Vincent, a shocked look on his face. He appears for all the world to be completely crestfallen, as this Vincent guy has stolen the thunder from his first win in jOlt. He runs a hand over his bald pate and then grabs the top rope with both arms, clearly intent on seeing what Vincent has to see, but also more than a little upset at the whole ordeal.

"Thank you. The Sports Entertainment Icon has arrived in jOlt. jOlt wanted main event talent, they wanted someone who wouldn't leave them after a couple of weeks or months. They wanted a Franchise Player. So who did they call on first? Who else, but Trey Vincent. Nobody else can sports entertain like Trey Vincent. And what better way to announce my arrival, then right here, right now. Why wait? I don't want to say jOlt is desperate for ratings, but I'm pretty sure I saw that next week, the main event was scheduled to be an interspecies six-thing tag match featuring midgets and monkeys, because, as well all know, monkeys and midgets equal ratings.

"But that's irrelevant. There is a simpler way to get ratings. Just by putting my handsome face on TV, TV is giving this company ratings. The people are enthralled by my amazing voice and powerful words. I have brought with me a legion of rabid fans who will no doubt make everyone realize who the real talent in jOlt is. I will sports entertain my way to the top of this company and teach everyone a few lessons along the way."

He begins to walk down the aisle now. He looks indifferently at the ring at Lance, who returns his look with a cold stare. The look on Knight's face is far from pleasant, and he's got murderous intent written all over his face.

"I'm so glad to finally say, after months of torture in obscurity and horrible, talentless sports entertainment federations, that at last Trey Vincent has found a home. I'd go as far as to say jOlt is one of only two sports entertainment companies on the planet that I would want to perform in. There are hundreds of other pretenders who think they're entertaining who are just drooling over themselves, wishing they could be where I am right now. Keep dreaming. This is my time. This is my company. This is my show. You can all go to hell. I'm the star. Everyone comes for me and me alone. The rest of you ain't here, so you don't even exist. I'm on a level you will never attain.

Getting closer to the ring, Vincent continues to look around the arena, clearly unaware that the top rope is trembling slightly in Knight's grip as his chest muscles tense and then loosen. The muscles in his upper arms remain tense; however, and his fingers have gone white from the tight grip he maintains on the top rope.

"And speaking of people who will never get to my level...."

Trey has reached the ring. He looks up at Lance, who has now finally gotten passed "upset" and is in full-out anger at the callousness of the newcomer.

"What the hell are you still doing in my ring? Didn't the bosses tell you once your match is over to make way for the real stars? You know, the ones who have talent and charisma. The ones who deliver ratings instead of just boasting on and on about how good they are. I hate people like that.

"I was in the back, watching you, and I was tempted to call the police on you for impersonating a sports entertainer. Look, whoever the hell you are, get out of my ring, you're wasting perfectly good airtime. Beat it."

Lance doesn't move.....at first....then he moves for a mic.......

"Excuse me, Mr. Vincent, but who in God's name are you? You come out here and spoil my night, and then you have the gall to say that I'm untalented and lacking charisma? You say that I'm not a sports entertainer? Well, you're partially right there."

Vincent's air of calmness disappears momentarily, as he is clearly shocked that Knight is agreeing with him. To his credit, though, he recovers quickly and stand staring at Lance with his arms crossed and the same smug smile back on his face.

"I've never claimed to be a 'sports entertainer'. I didn't get into this business so that I could come out night after night and run my mouth. I'm a wrestler, through and through, and an athlete. For me, it's all about the adrenaline and the sweat and the battle for supremacy. But as I look at you, with your chiseled physique and movie star good looks..."

Knight pauses and holds his hand out, as if to display the features in question to the crowd. Vincent's smile spreads from ear-to-ear, and he nods his head in agreement.

"...It makes me think of one thing - they're nothing but a smokescreen, covers for a lack of ability. With that said, I feel that anything else I say to you would not only be a waste of my time, but also a waste of time for the fans."

Knight walks right past Vincent, who is standing near the ropes between Knight and jOltron, still doing his best to look collected in spite of clearly being rattled by Knight's words. As Knight steps to the floor, Vincent again recovers quickly, and he turns to look at the departing Knight.

"So you don't think I've got any ability, is that it? We'll see about that..."

Knight turns to look at Vincent, shrugs his shoulders, and then continues back up the ramp.

NEXT CHAPTER: "Excuse me, excuse me." >>