RESPECT

Definition provided by The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Other important copyright information here.

respect:

Transitive verb

Inflected forms: re•spect•ed, re•spect•ing, re•spects 1. To feel or show deferential regard for; esteem. 2. To avoid violation of or interference with: respect the speed limit. 3. To relate or refer to; concern.

Noun

1. A feeling of appreciative, often deferential regard; esteem. See Synonyms at regard. 2. The state of being regarded with honor or esteem. 3. Willingness to show consideration or appreciation. 4. respects Polite expressions of consideration or deference: pay one's respects. 5. A particular aspect, feature, or detail: In many respects this is an important decision. 6. Usage Problem Relation; reference. See Usage Note at regard.

Etymology

From Middle English, regard, from Old French, from Latin respectus, from past participle of respicere, to look back at, regard : re-, re- + specere, to look at; see spek- in Indo-European roots.

The scene opens up inside a small room. It’s a compact room with a single, wooden, rusting rocking chair in the middle of the room. Above is a old light, with a cord that you pull to turn on and off. The bulb stutters, blinking constantly. A figure comes on scene and sits in the chair. The man has his head in his hands. He begins to rub the back of his head, before taking a deep breath. The man picks his head up, and leans back, revealing himself to be Sean Boyle. Boyle has on a black sweater, with a white undershirt, and a neatly creased khakis. Boyle places his hands on his knees and leans forward. He slowly blinks his eyes once, and lets out a little smirk.

I have a confession. Now, the confession might be a surprise to some. But, before I came to TNT, I watched the superstars such as Gravedigger, Big Boss, Bladerskum, and God. I watched and was amazed at what they did inside that ring. My confession is that of all of the wrestlers, God was my favorite. Nic Totopolous was my idol. He was my role model. God was God. So I planned to one day wrestling God. So I trained and trained, joined a wrestling school and was picked up by TNT. I finally made it. But, in my opinion I was too late. God was out of wrestling. Some spinal injury, or leg injury, or something that only a pussy would use as an excuse, knocked him out of TNT.

So, I was down on luck. But, I stayed in TNT, captured the TNT Television Championship from that worthless Nick Pellett, and was champion for six months. I then was assigned a feud with the returned Jesse “the Bitch” Westcoat. He was a young punk, that I knew I could embarrass night in and night out. But, he didn’t return alone. He returned with Nic Totopolous, who was still in a wheelchair. I was shocked to see my icon in front of me.

But, at the same time as being shocked, I was pissed off. I came to TNT, wanting to be with Nic. I wanted him to be my mentor, knowing he was getting old with age, and was a TNT veteran. But, when he got knocked out of wrestling, those dreams were shattered. But, months after surgery he was getting better and I heard word of it, and tried to contact Marcel to contact Nic, to men0tor me. I never got any calls back from Nic. So, when I feuded with Jesse, I beat his ass, taking my frustrations out on him. But, I decided it was unfair to take my frustrations out on him, knowing he wasn’t the cause, Nic was. God came back to TNT to mentor Jesse. He should’ve came to mentor ME!

So I took my frustrations out on Nic, knocking him out of his chair. I then verbally harassed him week in and week out. I knew he was able to defend himself, though he was in a wheelchair. The fact is, if he’s able to fly with TNT all around the United States, and partake in storyline, being in a wheelchair, he could defend himself. So I pushed Nic to the edge. I defeated Jesse, in his last match, and I then beat the living crap out of Nic Totopolous. I gave him the sharpshooter, and took a steel chair to his legs and back. To top it off I gave him a Final Blow from the top rope. So the next week or so he comes out and knocks me out cold with a steel chair.

Sean Boyle gets up from his wooden chair and walks to the far corner. He leans in, so that his shoulder blade and his whole arm is inside the crease of the wall. Boyle strokes his fingers up and down the wall and continues.

So the stage was set. April Attack. Sean Boyle. Nic Totopolous. Grudge Match. It was a grueling match, that went back and forth. It could’ve gone either way. It went in God’s favor. So we meet in the middle of the ring. We extend our hands, shake and hug. The fans go wild to see a feud end with great sportsmanship. But like Chris Jericho did to Shawn Michaels at Wrestlemania 19, I did to Nic. I attacked Nic. I was pissed that I lost. I should’ve won, but I guess it wasn’t my day. So I left Nic to fend for himself. I left Nic in the ring, hovering over like someone trying to throw up. I left Nic for dead, and I couldn’t give a damn what happened to him.

But now, one month later, we are still fighting. Nic was furious at what I did to him at Attack, so he wants one last match with me. He wants it to be the official end of Totopolous vs. Boyle He wanted a match where he could beat my ass to a bloody pulp and make a mockery out of me. I wanted a match where I can extract my revenge on him for screwing me out of THREE titles, and to beat his ass one more time. We both got our wish. At May Mutilation, it’s Nic Totopolous vs. Sean Boyle in a No Holds Barred Street Fight for the TNT Eurasian Championship, a championship that he cost me.

Nic, another confession is that I once respected you. I still do, I respect the fact that you go out and put your body on the line, and I respect all the boys in the back. I don’t respect you as a human being or a co-worker. But I will tell you this. After our match, win lose or draw, I will walk up to you and extend my hand out to you. Why? Because this will be the Final Encounter, if you will. We will put our bodies through hell. No Holds Barred Street Fight. Anything goes. I can run your pathetic ass over in a car, pin you , and be the champ. We will hurt each other, and we won’t be the same. Sunday’s match will be the equivalent to a Hell in a Cell.

Sean pushes off the wall and walks behind the chair. He places his hands on the back of the chair and slowly rocks the chair.

Don’t worry Nicholas. Even thought the World Title Match featuring James Vetalo and Jeremy Cundiff may or may not be as important as our match, my head will be focused squarely on the Street Fight. I was focused on that match primarily, because as long as the Real Deal has the World Title, we will be number one in TNT. You’re right Nic. Sunday is the chance for you to shut me up. This is your chance to team me respect. Have I disrespected those who paved the way for you and me? That’s debatable. I hope you know what my intentions are this Sunday, because I don’t want to hear excuses come Monday. You damn right I am getting excited and getting into a frenzy. You like me that way, because I’m easier to dissect.

You’re sick of me running my mouth? You’re sick of seeing me. Sunday, bring your “A” game. You want to take me out of TNT? Sunday is your chance. I will run my mouth until Sunday, when it will be time to put up or shut up. Nic, one of ours careers will be shattered this Sunday. One of us with walk with the respect of the other man, one will walk out victorious, and more importantly one will walk out the Eurasian Champion. And that one person will be me.

Sean reaches up and pulls the cord on the light as the scene fills with darkness.