[center][h2][color=fff200]Sexton P.S. Love[/color][/h2][h3][/h3]
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Getting a drink of water wasn't bad advice. I mean, what else could could Sexton used to wash down his pills?

Booze. 

He could use booze. 

Unfortunately, alcohol was no longer allowed in the building. Something to do with "changing times", "professionalism," and "the health and wellness policy." It all sounded like a bunch of nonsense to Sexton, and as far as he was concerned if he wasn't booked on the show there wasn't really a problem. It was yet another example of the wrestling business becoming overly sanitized. Reaching into his fanny pack he pulled out a small mickey of vodka, and emptied it's contents into a plastic water bottle. The stench was pretty strong, but it was nothing compared to the foul odour of sweat and vomit seemingly emanating from every one of his pores. 

After rehydrating himself, Sexton grabed a seat near one of the TV monitors backstage to watch some of tonight's matches. Sexton glanced around the locker room at his colleagues, thinking to himself that many of these so-called "wrestlers" looked more like actors on the CW Network. They had probably never been in a [i]real[/i] fight in their lives. Sexton somewhat resented the direction that the wrestling business was heading. It seemed as though wrestlers were more concerned with performing flashy stunts and "sports entertainment exhibitions" as opposed to convincing fans that they were in a real, heated fight. 

Another art that had truly been lost in the modern era was the art of the promo. Most wrestlers had their interviews overly scripted and were therefore unable to really develop their own characters or showcase their own personalities. The larger-than-life personas that once popularized wrestlng in 80s and 90s had disappeared and been replaced by generic names and canned promo lines. It was becoming harder and harder for fans to emotionally invest in professional wrestling. 

[@JamesMuddy]

Sexton got up and made his way past the hair and makeup area to find Ian Hamiltion, who wrestled for AWE as "Owen Sparks," rehearsing some of his lines for a spot promo he had been asked to shoot. Ian was a good kid, with a lot of raw talent and athleticism. Sure, he was greener than goose shit, and he looked like he was still in high school, but at least he was in good ring shape. Another wrestler, Zachary Wake, had become a mentor of sorts to Ian and had been helping him develop his moveset. But Sexton knew that unless Ian could connect with the fans on the microphone it wouldn't do him much good. 

Sexton approached the young up-and-comer and slapped him on the back. 

[color=fff200]"Sparky baby,"[/color] said Sexton, taking Ian by surprise. [color=fff200]"I saw a couple of your matches from down in Greensboro daddeh, and you had the people in the palm of your hand."[/color]

It was true, Owen Sparks had come close to stealing the show at a couple of live events during the last loop of towns. 

[color=fff200]"Darlin' I know you're trying to make a name for yourself out there, but my God just promise me you'll be careful coming off that top rope. It's gotta mean somethin' daddeh, don't be killin' yourself out there just for the sake of it. Always remember darlin', a good match is like a good fuck. It's all about the [i]foreplay[/i]. You gotta [i]tease[/i] the fans a litte out there, and build to the big climax. That's how you make 'em SCREAM your name."[/color]

In all honestly, Sexton stop caring about having a good fuck some time ago, but he still prided himself on his work in the ring. 

Sexton glanced down at the piece of paper in Ian's hands, with his promo lines written on it. 

[color=fff200]"And I know you don't want to step on too many toes, but nobody knows who Owen Sparks is better than you darlin'. When you get in that promo booth, don't be afraid to be spontaneous. That's your chance to tell the world who you are. Taking risks is how you make it in this business daddeh." [/color]