Rick Golden Arrogance
Arrogant. Overly convinced of one's own importance… Enough said. T.J. Hix, London Rockwell, and J.T. Styles have two things in common: One, they are arrogant. Two, they are all losers, and will continue their losing ways against me on Flatline. Why? Because I'm far more superior to these mere mortals, for I am the W3 Sensation and that makes me immortal to all around me. How? I became immortal with the one thing that drives people, MOTIVATION. Being motivated to get up at 5:00 A.M. every summer to wrestle and train is very hard, and if my sights weren't set on the W3 Platinum title, or World title as I use to call it, I wouldn't even be here. That's why I sweat, that's why I bleed, that's why I pay the price. Hix, Rockwell, and Styles all pay their dues I know they have... But none and I mean none have paid more dues than me. Hell, while they've been facing Jack The Jobber and his whole clan their whole life I've been facing greats like The Silencer, Antonio Machevelli, Jermaine Bouillon, my own damn brother Alex Addams, and of course T.J. Hix in his mind. Two weeks of my life I haven't shown dedication and that's the last two weeks of the W3. Hix got lucky twice, and a big chunk of that is due to my sickness from the food that those Japs gave me. Nevertheless, I'm focused, determined, and ready to start over from scratch.

Now onto my mimes. First, London Rockwell. Yes, I can call you London now, even though the city gives me the creeps. Well London, you're my number two mime. How long has it been since you've spoken? Three Weeks? You know when you wrestle you usually speak about how you're going to tear your opponents apart but I guess you just are the guy who sits in the corner of the classroom knowing that he won't get picked for basketball. What that means shitless is that you aren't the kind of guy that stands up for himself. Instead, you just sit back and let people throw you around... like I am definitely going to do to you on Flatline. London, you're so young and vulnerable... too easy to pick at and get inside of in my estimation.... that's your weakness. Now you can come back trying to get into the mind of the W3 Sensation's but don't bother... I have had people get into my mind and mess with things... you just know where to hit and how to hit it London. And in my mind, you don't know where to start.

Now onto mime number two, J.T. Styles. The biggest mime of them all who simply thinks he can show the world how good he is by just his actions and not his words. That's where you're wrong "brudda". Mix your words and your actions together and then you have a tandem nobody can mess with... like my "tandem" for example. I can dish out the words, and dish out the punishment anytime, anyplace, or anywhere I want to. Styles you show NO style whatsoever to me. The only person with style around here is me in my estimation. Like the good man once said, I can style, profile WOO! Well, I'm looking at my watch right now and I haven't seen a promo of yours up today? Have a bad case of Alzheimer’s and forget to shoot one? Ahhh... don't bother Styles... you're going to get your ass beat into oblivion by me anyway it's jus t how bad is the question.

Now onto my great buddy T.J. Hix, The FUCKING BOSS, Area 51 extraordinaire, and the man who beat me by a fluke Sunday at World Relations. T.J., I will give you your props man... you are pretty good at this sport of wrestling. But by NO WAY and I mean NO WAY you are better than Rick Golden. I have qualities you'll never have nor gain in your pathetic career. You see T.J., I've said this time and time again but you just don't seem to get it. I AM THE W3 SENSATION! Would you understand if I said I AM THE FUCKING W3 SENSATION? Probably, because you're the Fuckin Boss right? Now I know you'll come out if you speak and say how you have one this title and that title from every organization on the face of the earth but Hix, we're in the W3 now. The W3 rules the wrestling world with a swift fist. So Hix, I wouldn't be expecting any Platinum Title opportunities or any title opportunities because what I see for your future is something called Dark Matches... while I move up in the ranks faster than anybody EVER in the W3. I'll leave you with that Hix... have a FUCKING nice day.

INTRO

[We see a car zoom down the road honking at some other cars to move and they do seeing they'll crash if they don't. In his red Ferrari, Rick Golden is rushing down to the school to sign autographs for the elementary school kids. Of course, Rothy made him do this as "giving back to the fans". Golden wouldn't have done it on his own... he cares nothing about the fans and what they think, just about winning and winning gold. As Golden zooms into the turning lane, slowing down to the speed limit, he smiles as he thinks he has it made. All of a sudden, sirens go off and a policeman comes up behind him. He waits about 100 yards before going off the road that infuriates the policeman. Golden knows he infuriated him so he stays in the car, waiting for the policeman to come over. He rolls down the window when he comes over and begins to talk as if he did nothing.]

Rick Golden: Is there a problem I can help you with on this beautiful morning officer?

Officer: Yeah as a matter of fact there is you smart-ass. You were going 94 MPH in a zone of 35 MPH. Do you know how to do math? Because every time we catch a little punk like you they don't seem to know math or the speed limit. So do you have anything to say punk?

Rick Golden: Nope, nothing at all Officer... except, do you know who the fuck you're dealing with right now? I could ruin your personal and professional life with my influences so if I was you I'd just let me go without a ticket so it'd save me and you trouble.

Officer: You know, lots of people say these kinds of things when I pick them up but this is the first time I've heard someone say "You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with?" Well, there's always a first time for everything...

[With that Golden slams open the car door in his stomach and holds up his head... watching the blood seep through the cracks of his forehead. He smiles with a sick smile and begins yelling at him.]

Rick Golden: Now I told you, that you shouldn't fuck with me, especially on a day like today! Jason Rothchild is MAKING me... MAKING me, the W3 sensation sign autographs for kids that don't even care about me? That's total horse shit, just like you. Don't they teach you self-defense at the Police Academy? I thought Police were tough? Nah... they aren't are they? Only with a gun in their hand. Now, my name is Rick Golden, the W3 Sensation. Your chief knows me very well and won't care about what happened to me today. So it'd be wise not to disturb him while he's doing important business with this little matter. Okay?

[The officer drops on his knees gasping for his breath and mumbles a quick "okay". Golden smiles and leaves him there as he hops back into his Ferrari and turns left again into the parking lot of an elementary school where a bunch of little snot-nosed punks are waiting outside for him with a big sign that says "WELCOME RICK". Rick curses in disgust and we see Malik in the background behind the kids in his headband and silk attire with flashy jewelry on his neck and wrist. He is talking on the cell phone yelling at someone until he sees Golden park the car. He waves to him to come over and Golden comes over almost trampling a little kid to the disgust of his teacher. He comes over and Malik seems excited about something so he spits it out.]

Malik: I booked you for a match tomorrow night at the Staples Center with some up-and coming rookie from DHW's promotional federation... RCW. The kids' name is J.C. Starr... he isn't anything compared to W3 talent, but a mere warm-up for the match against Styles, Rockwell, and Hix. You down with that?

Rick Golden: Yeah, I'm down but it's just one thing... these damn kids. How many times will I have to do this because I have a very short temper with immature, farting, burping, annoying kids. And they will probably pick their nose before they shake my hand too! That's disgusting! Malik, make sure Rothchild nor Washington EVER books me for a cooky little "giving back to the fans" thing like this EVER again!

Malik: Yeah man, I'll make sure of it. If you make sure you take out T.J. Hix, London Rockwell, and J.T. Styles so you and I don't look like fools on Wednesday. Anyway, you're late... no, WE'RE late. We need to get in so you can get this over with. [Golden and Malik walk down the hall and into an auditorium where about 500 kids erupt when Golden walks in. Golden portrays a fake smile as well as Malik and he sits down at the table the school appointed to him. Even though the table looked like trash, it would do. The first person that comes up is a little boy with chocolate cake on his shirt. Golden snickers and begins to speak.]

Rick Golden: Hey kid, I was just wondering what you had for breakfast today? Could it happen to be chocolate cake?

Kid: Yeah I had that, how'd you know?

Rick Golden: I came to that conclusion because of two reasons: One, your smelly shirt has chocolate cake all over it, and number two, your breath smells like the most disgusting piece of chocolate cake I've ever smelled. Now get out of here I have a broken finger and can't write. [The next kid that comes up is fat and has flies all around him. Golden just simply gets up and walks straight to the principal's office where he is sitting with his back turned on the phone. Golden approaches him and whips his chair around. The principal smiles showing his YELLOW teeth to Golden and Malik. Golden yells and rushes out of the office and down the stairs to leave the psycho house. He and Malik jump into the Ferrari and start to wait for about fifteen minutes.]

Rick Golden: I'm telling you Malik, I can't go back in there! Did you see those people? Covered in flies, chocolate cake, and their fucking principal had yellow teeth for Christ’s sake! Jesus, what the hell kind of school is this a school for bad hygiene?

Malik: Yeah, ha, ha, ha, Rick. Listen, do you want to go in there and deal with those weasels for a mere twenty minutes before leaving or do you want to go tell Jason Rothchild and Daman Washington that you didn't fulfill your obligations to the W3? If I was you, I'd just go in and be a man for twenty minutes.

Rick Golden: Malik, shut up before I send you back to the streets where you came from. The only reason I brought you here was to do my damn paperwork and to tell me if I'm doing anything wrong wrestling! I don't want your lip, or anybody else's... got it?

Malik: *Trying Not To Laugh* Yeah man, whatever.

[So Malik and Golden make their way into the gymnasium again, with all the kids waiting for Golden to come back. They just think he went to the bathroom... but actually he wants them to go to the bathroom and do some things. Anyway Golden goes back to the "ghetto" table and sits down making a squeak with his chair making kids laugh. Golden glares at them and awaits the next kid in line who seems to be an alright looking guy.]

Rick Golden: Yeah, what do you want signed? [The kid stands there holding out a piece of paper with a pen.]

Rick Golden: You're cheap man, afford something nice for me to sign... like a poster or something cheap ass.

[The kid goes off with tears in his eyes like he's going to tell the teacher and does. The teacher tells the principal and Golden and Malik leave before all hell brakes loose. They go out into the parking lot and catch their breath, holding their knees by the side of the Ferrari.]

Rick Golden: Hey Malik... I thought you were down with staying in there even when the worst shit happens. What's up with YOU leaving? You're the one bitching about Jason Rothchild and Daman Washington!

Malik: Did you see that fat bitch? I was afraid she'd eat me so I ran as fast as my legs could carry me out here dawg. Damn, let's get going before she come out.

[Golden and Malik both hop into the Ferrari and Golden pulls out very fast and screeches the tires, rotating them forward and away they go. We see them disappear around the corner as we fade to black.]

OUTRO

Has Rick Golden and his business consultant Malik upset the two co-owners of the W3? Well, one thing is for sure, that school was no regular school. There was something fishy about it that I can't quite place my finger on. Anyway, will Golden and Malik come back and apologize? Or will they egg the school like immature pricks? Who knows? Read on in Chapter Three of The Rick Golden Saga...