Trevor Tyler vs Steve Wolf

[johncooper]

You 2 RP here.

[Trevor Tyler]

(April 7th, 2012- 6:32AM)
(Trevor's Hotel Room)

I laid in my bed, just staring at the ceiling. The numbers 0 and 3 kept circling around in my mind. I had lost again. Cajun Flames and I were the favorites to win the match, yet could not pull it off. What was wrong with me? Never, and I mean NEVER, had I ever started off my career this badly. Everywhere I went, I destroyed. I was a 2-time SSW Young Guns Champion. A 4-time World Champion in two different federations. And now, here I was. At the bottom of the ladder. Nothing more than a common jobber. I got up from my bed.

Trevor Tyler: Why is this happening to me? Why can't I win? What is wrong with me?!

I grabbed the remote to the television and I threw it towards the wall in anger. I was pissed off. This was a first for me. I did not like losing. I got up and walked over to the where I had thrown the remote. I picked up the shattered remains.

Trevor Tyler: Remotes break so easily.

I laughed, then I noticed I was talking to myself. Great, now I was going crazy. I took the remains and threw them in the waste basket in the bathroom. I was tired, but didn't feel like sleeping. Suddenly, my eyes began to droop. Oh shit! I was falling asleep! I tried waking myself up, but it was too late. I was out like a light, in the bathroom.

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(About 3 hours later)

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. I awoke with a puddle of drool right next to my face. As soon as I heard the ringing, I ran back to my room. I checked the Caller ID. It was my friend and personal trainer, Rick Evans. I took the call.

Trevor Tyler: Hey Rick. What are you calling me this early for?

Rick Evans: Um, seriously? Have you checked the time? It's 10:20AM!

Trevor Tyler: Fuck! I am missing my own training session?! Shit! I'm sorry, man. I overslept!

Rick Evans: I don't give a shit! Get your ass down here!

Trevor Tyler: All right! All right! Quit getting your panties in a bunch! I'll be there in 10, 15 minutes tops!

I closed the phone and began frantically dressing myself. I grabbed my green sweatsuit and put it on. Then I grabbed my gym bag, which was lying close to the door, and I was on my way!

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(10:33AM)

I arrived to the gym at 10:33. Rick was there in his red, white, and blue sweatsuit, as usual. Boy, what a patriot he was! He was such a patriot that every time I would talk to him, he would tell me how he would kick Mike C's ass. Here was the problem with that, though. Rick is a pussy. He talks a big game, but when it's time to step up to the plate, he cowers. I arrived at the doors of the gym and saw that Rick was hitting on some tall blond. I opened the door and walked inside. I waited for a minute so that Rick could finish his business, and he did. The girl gigged a few times then, with a sharpie, wrote her number on Rick's hand. Rick smiled and stared at her ass as she walked away. I walked up to him and cleared my throat, which took his gaze off the girl's ass.

Trevor Tyler: You ready to train? Or are you going to keep on hitting on girls?

Rick: Les go.

We began walking towards the weights so I could work on my upper weight, but we were stopped by a man's voice. Actually, with the way the man was shouting, he sounded more like a teenager still going through the stages of puberty. Rick and I both turned to face the man. I had never seen this man before in my life.

Man: Mr. Tyler! Mr. Tyler!

The man caught up with us. He seemed to be somewhere in his late 20s, early 30s. He looked no older than me. He had short brown hair, and was small in height compared to Trevor and Rick. The man put his hand out, looking for a handshake.

Man: My name is John May. I'm the wrestling columnist for the website "Wrestling Scoop". I would love to do an interview with you. Do you mind?

Trevor Tyler: Yeah, sure. Rick, can you gives us a few minutes?

Rick nodded and he took my bag and walked it over to the weights room. The stout man pulled out his notepad and wrote something down before looking up at Trevor.

May: Ok, you ready?

I nodded. He clicked his pen and began the interview.

May: Ok, here we go. Trevor, you are currently 0-3 in USPW. That has never happened to you before in your career. How do you feel about being 0-3?

The anger inside of me began to rise. My blood was boiling. I was about to break this asshole in half. But...I knew that I couldn't. It wasn't me. So, I took a deep breath and answered the question.

Trevor: I, just like any other wrestler, will tell you that I don't like the fact that I am 0-3. I don't like the fact that I'm the bottom of the food chain at the moment. If anything, it is an unfamiliar territory to me. Next question.

He finished writing my comments down on the notepad before asking me the next question.

May: Okay, are you worried about your opponent, Steve Wolf?

Wait? I was facing Steve Wolf? Well, that was a surprise to me. I had no idea. I tried not acting shocked, but I had no idea how to answer the question, I had never seen Steve Wolf in action.

Trevor: I've never seen Steve Wolf wrestle before. It will be nice to see what he brings to the match and for his sake, he better bring his "A" game because I don't like losing. Anymore questions?

May: One more. What do you think of "USA"?

Trevor: The stable? I hate each and everyone of those bastards. If I ever get the chance to face one of those guys again, I won't hesitate for a second!

He finished writing, then looked up at me. He smiled and extended his hand again. I shook it.

May: Thank you so much, Mr. Tyler!

Trevor: Call me Trevor. And you're welcome.

The man walked away, looking very cheerful. I turned and saw Rick, looking very impatient. I was ready to train and I was tired of losing. If Steve Wolf had to be my first victim, so be it. I don't plan on losing again.