"Tell me more about you. What you think... why you think those things..."
With a successful attempt at providing an angelic tone in her voice, this woman was trying to butter up the hand that she lightly rolled her fingers around on. This hand had rested itself on top of a cane of sorts, and by the view of that watch, one could incorrectly assume this was the pretty girl's pimp. But that was complete and utter rubbish; though he knew his way around a ring, it took Andrew James Warner a long time to learn the language of love. AJ would speak with a small grin but the ruggedness in his voice had always remained prevalent. Before he could answer, the woman had intertwined her fingers with his.
"Well it depends,"
The voice and its confidence were recognized by a majority of wrestling audiences before the camera had confirmed AJ's identity. He had slowly and very subtly moved his fingers within the girl's hand.
"I'm always thinking, shug. Can't have any days off, right?"
This, of course, was only a glimpse into Warner's manipulative personality. He had avoided showing this girl the reality that existed within his head by trying to disguise his mysteriousness with wit. Oh, and answering a question with a question always works.
"C'moooooon tough guy, you're not always thinking."
This woman, beautiful or not, must have been complete strangers with the man who used to call himself the Bad Chyld. She was obviously interested in getting to know AJ, but she was too busy trying to challenge his intellect once she noticed his communication skills.
"It's nice to take your mind off things sometimes. I feel like thinking too much can cause a lot of stress. You haven't been thinking since you've met me, have you?"
Warner, almost on cue, gave this un-named woman his classic crooked smirk and laughed under his breath; perhaps she had intentionally set herself up for AJ's direct forward approach. That would explain the nervous giggle she had failed to hold back and the small smile that was naturally expecting compliments to follow.
"The brain is like the body, ya know... it always needs to be exercising. We've been working out our minds for the past few hours, so I'll come back and who knows... maybe we can leave this joint and start a new routine."
Very slowly from his chair arose the wrestling veteran. He had found a new rhythm in his step, that being from a cane used to ensure that AJ would maintain his balance. As he had walked away, the woman he was talking with had obviously been lost for words. Her hands remained on top of Warner's until he was out of her reach. The camera followed him on his journey to the outside; the whole escapade had taken a while to complete, but he was patted on the back by about a half-dozen people still in the club, and a couple people were heard yelling the man's own name at him as if he didn't know it already. No emotions were given from Warner in return; only ineffable mumbles and one or two nods. The bouncer opened the door for the rugged warrior; with a walking cane and a five o'clock shadow, AJ was without a doubt one of the older men in the club. Whatever, at least he had done it while guaranteeing a night with a beautiful college girl. That was the value remaining behind Warner's name as of then. The middle-aged man had taken a small stroll down the block with the help of his walking stick. The camera man had positioned itself behind AJ for the time being. The familiar antagonist was looking at the trees (that looked like silhouettes in the moon's light) for many moments.
Siiiiiigggghh...
After the long sigh, Warner had still gone without talking directly to anyone in the audience who would listen, and this silence was continued briefly while AJ pulled a pack of Marlboro Red 100's out of his front pocket. Although he had removed a cigarette from his pack and even put it between his lips, Warner was quick to remove it from his mouth and crush the damn thing in his hand out of what appeared to be disgust. Finally, with his back still parallel with the camera lens, AJ began his long-awaited (yet typically narcissistic) first speech here.
"I let her go... so she could go be with her friends."
Warner started his slowly-maneuvered 180 degree turn so he could illustrate his tones and emotions more clearly to the camera. More recently than not, AJ had become a bit more of a perfectionist; trying to find the best set of words to start a war with every sentence was nearly impossible, even to the most proficient writers. However, AJ has been doing this odd thing recently where he would begin these orations with sentences that would make no sense at first, but then tie-in to the end.
"I told her I'd be back... I told her, and I told myself, every time that she left my side I'd come back and we'd go home happily ever after. I just wanted her to go to her friends so she could let them know her plans. Whether it was a night... or a lifetime... I told her I would bloody and bruise every single man that did her wrong. I re-assured her that any scumbag who put his miserable filthy hands on her, they'd be eating and shitting through the same tube. I told her, time and time again... I loved her. And to think, all I wanted to do was give her some space every now and then let her be... with her friends. So she could could brag about all the things I've done for her to her two-faced friends... and while I say all of this to you? She's gone, and I don't know if I'll be able to get her back."
Pause. AJ took his middle and index finger on his left hand, using them to lift his glasses up and wipe both eyes at once. Warner let his reading utensil fall back on the bridge of his nose as he looked down, either trying to maintain his composure or unintentionally discover new ways to wear his emotions on his sleeve. His visual focus wandered with his hand motions; this was a sign of AJ beginning to get livid.
"Professional wrestling has my heart and my mind 'til death do us part. I was born a fighter, and for that, I have turned into a lover late in life... and as for that Audrey chick from [Union] Hall? She's alright, I guess. Twelve years younger than me ain't too bad. Honestly? I guess the only problem with Audrey is this... weird conception of reality she has. I've been that young, I can tell her type. She's just a naive little sheep, baah-ing away at whatever opportunity comes her way. Whether it's for a nine-to-five job she slaves to, a set of parents she's trying to appease, or a date with the best athlete this world has seen, baaahh bahhh bahhh. It's just so sad that little Audge has limited herself to cubicles... holidays... one night stands. These kind of people accept government as the law of the land, but when your view is nothing but dead bodies and wool, only the law of the jungle applies. You really want to see the land of the free? Try taking a walk on the lion's path."
This had become a total rambling of Warner's once more. He had this supposed sick and twisted obsession with talking about his upbringing and his roots; at least he had made it apparent who, or what, his first infatuation was. AJ had looked to the right of the camera angrily, clenching his teeth so tightly that he thought his jaw might combust. He ran his hand through his hair before continuing his progressively ascending emotions.
"I left her so she could go be with her friends, so she could tell them she was going home with AJ, so they all could feel good about themselves. I mean, Audrey's friends gotta feel apart of the whole thing too. But after Audrey leaves and I'm left with my wallet weighing a little less, and my leg still a little crooked, I find myself asking where my friends are. Maybe its because I hated every fighter I ever threw a punch towards, and I disrespected every man who got what was comin'... but I did it all out of love. I did what I did to protect and preserve the honor of this sport by working to become the greatest bad guy you all have ever seen, while trying to perfect ring psychology... mind games... suplexes. Every time I stood in that ring, I did not think of what approach they would take or their moves; I would look to paint myself with somebody else's blood. It's unfortunate, though... you ask most of these guys if they'd rather be painted red or covered in gold, they pick one or another... never both. I guess I'm just like Audrey, in a sense: I'm looking for someone who wants nothing short of everything. I want to find a man, take his trials and tribulations in this life, and re-incarnate him as the monster that'll take everything. Everything he wants! Everything he NEEDS!"
"Audrey's nice. Gorgeous. Her and I would make some goddamn beautiful children. But my first love... damn, my first love..."
A sarcastic smile was easily forged over the lips of the hobbled Suplex Shooter. He ran a hand through his hair, showing the blood in his veins reaching its boiling point. With a handful of rage, AJ grabbed a hold of the camera with his free hand and he brought the lens much closer to his face while leaning on his cane.
"SHE WAS STOLEN FROM ME, DAMMIT... SHE HAD HER WAY WITH ME FOR YEARS, ONLY TO LEAVE ME WITH THIS... and I swear to God, I SWEAR TO GOD, PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING... you're gonna get what's coming to you.
"Because I'll make sure that the hopes and dreams of AJ Warner are the only things in this world that are unbreakable."
A distant voice of an angel's was heard from behind the camera. Warner looked toward the woman's direction, anticipating whatever she had to say after all she may (or may not) have heard. Had it been a combination of any other four words, she may have solidified Warner's most recent statement.
"Let's get going, 'shug.' "
The recording had suddenly finished, and for the final few seconds, a mischievous grin was seen on the wiser face of AJ Warner... even after a vocal distaste he had for his "one true love." The mission to rule over WWE:E through whatever vaguely-described plans he had would wait until at least noon.
