Post by INFINITE PRO. on Sept 16, 2022 18:12:38 GMT
An abrasive clanging sound echoes out, the loud noise cutting through the haze, as a steel gong repeatedly strikes the brass of a timekeeper’s bell. It is an all too familiar racket that succeeds in drawing attention back to the moment. Within seconds the OVO Arena Wembly erupts in revelry as the Jamrockers are announced as the victors. The drunken cheers are enough to make one nostalgic for the odious bell. Focus turning back to the squared circle, The Final Boss takes in the defeat. For all the training leading up to contest, his protégé still wasn’t up to the challenge. Falling in the main event of the eighth Adrenaline. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.
Yet the loss means little to Zoran Sainovic.
Viewing the encounter with the clinical detachment of a promoter, The Final Boss sees the various costs and benefits. What good would picking up the win really be? A tag team encounter, featuring a partnership that isn’t even a permanent fixture. Had the Jamrockers been defeated, it would have been hard for those regular partners to explain the superior teamwork of singles stars. Realistically, this was the best possible outcome for all of the parties involved. For his part, Sainovic was only interested in putting on a contest that was far more challenging and entertaining than Steve Awesome’s championship matches. The tape would have to be reviewed to acknowledge the real success, but judging from the audience reaction – The Final Boss isn’t worried. Oh, the appearance of Awesome as special guest star is the kind of insult, that everyone involved will one day pay for – but even that annoyance failed to raise Sainovic’ heart from pumping his ice cold blood above 60 beats per minute.
In short, Zoran Sainovic enjoyed the wrestling component of the match, and while others might bemoan a loss? The Final Boss could give less of a fuck.
More than anything, this appearance was a favour to El Rey. Official results were immaterial. Before the contest had even started, Sainovic’s mind was rushing through the red eye schedule – weighing how long the match needed to run to consider El Rey’s main event status confirmed, versus hurrying the match along to beat traffic to the airport. Checking his watch, Sainovic was pleased to find that his own schedule was well on track. In short, this was a win.
Ignoring the increasingly rowdy fans almost spilling over the guardrail behind him, a deadpan Sainovic simply straighten his tie. His cold detachment seems to fuel their taunts. Doesn’t this foreign douche realize he lost? Act angry. Act annoyed! Instead they get a cold shoulder. It’s enough to riot.
No matter what garbage is thrown, Sainovic simply ignores it – continuing to pat down hair, and clean himself up. Priorities. Looking every part a REAL champion, the eastern European starts to take his leave...
...when he finally sees his ward, lying on the canvas.
Sainovic is shocked at the look of bitter disappointment on El Rey’s face.
It makes no sense. Why the anguish? Why the visible anger? Did the boy think that being pinned by the champion was going to be a career setback? Was it worry that they would send him back to the opener? The next show did have him opening, so that prediction had come to pass. Perhaps the pained look is concern that this defeat will negatively impact his upcoming openweight challenge? Or that there was some shame in losing a tag match to an actual tag team? Was Rey embarrassed that his Mel Gibson impression ranked a paltry Forever Young and not a solid Lethal Weapon 2? Had the Jamrockers tired antics somehow gotten under El Rey’s skin? The thought is preposterous. Zoran Sainovic doesn’t train marks. No. As annoying as the Jamrockers are, losing to them is no worse than losing to the Saga – with those teams being interchangeable in Sainovic’s mind. So what could it be? Did Rey actually think their tagging would somehow continue after this night? Did the boy want their professional relationship to continue as this in-ring novelty act, instead of the superior absentee manager formula? Had Zoran become the father figure that Venom never could be?
Only one thing is clear, El Rey is taking this loss a lot worse than The Final Boss.
An explosion of liquid concludes this contemplation. Zoran refuses to acknowledge the beer that nails him square in the back, instead choosing to once again look down at his watch. It is getting close, but the window remains. He can still make check in, and be in the air before midnight. Get out of the accursed isles, and home in time to wake his wife up with breakfast in bed. Those shark eyes then turn back to El Rey, focusing on the rage dancing about the young man’s contorting temple. The argument in the youth’s head, almost as violent as thoughts of commitments swirling around for Sainovic. As if there were a choice.
Zoran Sainovic:
Prokleti.
Prokleti.
Damn.
It seems that The Final Boss is going to have to enter the Royal Crown Rumble to win El Rey that briefcase.[/div