We’re in a spa room, Tobias rewarding himself with a visit to a place where he can calm his spirit, soothe his muscles and see to the bruising from when he was so viciously assaulted by the newest member to the roster in an unprovoked attack post-match.
He’s still seething about that, as you’ll soon discover.
For now, he looks at peace, incense candles burning around the room, soothing atmospheric music being piped in at a low volume and warm towels draped over his form.
He notices the camera, swinging his feet over the padded bed where he’s been lying.
(Tobias): Five things to talk about, five things that demonstrates perfectly why I have my f*cking work cut out for me to bring this federation up to the standards I expect. so listen up and listen good.
Let’s start with the negatives, and there are many.
He drops down to the floor, the only clothing he has is the towel wrapped around his waist, showing his imperious form off.
(Tobias): First, the standard of refereeing that I experienced last night, is shocking. Shocking I tell you. Saying I was throwing closed fists at Jackson? What? If I’d thrown closed fists at him, he’d know about it. They were as open as you were ever going to get.
As for the counting, my god, what was he waiting on, the next ice age?
Then there was that clear count out that he fluffed. I was back in the ring before the ten count, Jeremiah didn’t even skim the canvas let alone bother the bottom rope, but somehow he’s safe?
Give me a break!
I expect the next referee to be of higher quality, or at the very least, having had his eyesight, hearing and reaction times tested properly!
Two fingers get held up as the pacing continues, the frustration clearly building.
(Tobias): Second, the quality of the staff. Again, like the refereeing, it’s not rocket science, open your ears and pay attention. Three knocks!
Three fingers are held up.
(Tobias): Three! How f*cking hard is it to count to three? Just like how hard is it to get a man some water after a match? You can get a towel, sure, but that was probably because they’ve just walked out the shower and never bothered to hang it up, just carried it around all day…
Urgh.
Surrounded by mediocrity.
And vermin…
That look of sheer disdain appears.
Clearly, one very unhappy memory is playing in his mind right now.
He’s stopped his pacing, his eyes burrowing into the camera.
(Tobias): Third… wolf man… Steve Irwin… whatever, you, your little band of beasts, get the f*ck away from me. In fact, get the f*ck away from this company. You hang around like a bad smell for a day, assault me… assault ’me’, and get awarded a contract?
The actual f*ck is that about?!
You watch yourself buddy.
No one. No one lays their hands on me.
A vein is almost popping in his neck by this point, and it clearly takes him some effort to calm himself down enough to continue.
Soon enough though, that haughty sneer is back.
(Tobias): Fourth, Jasper, you little redneck talentless, golem-like f*ck, I’m on to you. There is no way, no way at all that you could have lasted in that ring with me, taken a “Sublimity” or that absolutely divine scoop I did to hit you with a suplex.
Seriously, that move was…
He pulls a ‘chefs kiss’ motion.
(Tobias): It was poetry in motion, which is more than I can say for your stomping about the ring like an ogre. But seriously, there are questions to be asked Jackie-boy. You’re gassed just walking to the ring, your stamina is shocking, yet on the night you take hit after hit and keep coming back for more?. I’m calling it now, it’s not tips you’ve been taking from your family, it’s f*cking drugs. You were like the Mountain from Game of Thrones out there, only, he’s better looking… and that’s even after his surgery…
I’m wanting it investigated by all the relevant agencies, I want you tested James, you had something in reserve last night and it wasn’t talent!
His arms go wide, his composure returns as a look of serenity falls upon him.
(Tobias): But in the end, it didn’t matter.
Because I…
His right hand settles on his chest right above where his heart would be.
(Tobias): … Tobias Clark, won. Because I was always going to. Because I’m better than you. In spite of all your little drug fueled resisting, you crumbled all the same. Because you don’t match up to me Johnny, you just don’t.
You want a rematch?
Get good, then get back to me buddy.
He pushes the camera away, as the scene fades out to black.
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