Post by Deleted on Aug 11, 2011 22:11:07 GMT -6
So, it’d seem some congratulations are in order, belated as they may be.
Claps
Congratulations Xander, you brought your A-Game with you and picked up a narrow victory at Picture Perfect. I won’t pretend I aren’t disappointed to kiss goodbye to the gold which has been draped around my waist for two months but in the end, on that occasion, you were the better man.
Why bother with this show of respect?
I care enough to say well done because you proved you’re not just one of Leonard’s corporate honey tongues, you seemingly do actually give a crap about the hordes of people who line your pockets. You really are in this business for the right reasons and clearly I was wrong about you.
I aren’t going to stand here, stare into this camera and start ranting about how I was screwed, that you somehow managed to do some obscure wrong and profited from your ill-deeds because the fact is you beat me fair and square.
I said I would walk out of that arena with my head held high and that is exactly what I did Xander. You took your opportunity and you received the spoils, those are the breaks but I do not hang my head in shame. Wallowing in self-pity is for the self-defeatists who have come, and rapidly gone, from this company. This was a setback nothing more, nothing less but make no mistake about it you did everything you said you would.
Perhaps I should stomp my heels and cry like a spoiled brat, perhaps I should declare you a cheat and a cad or perhaps I should go screaming at the booking committee for a re-match. Perhaps, but then I wouldn’t be any better than the rest of the men and women who populate Leonard’s payroll and the fact is, I’m nothing like those blood sucking opportunistic parasites.
I may have lost my crown, but I haven’t lost sight of my purpose, if anything I’m more determined than ever. In my short absence Leonard Fox has further demonstrated his despotic tendencies, tossing aside World Champions and stooges alike in pursuit of the almighty dollar, all to satisfy his financial lust and insatiable ego. This past week has proved why my course is just and true, because nobody else has the balls to stand up for what is right in this company.
Oh sure, Rob Diamond got his panties in a twist and walked out of NCW in a petulant rage, his token Nintendo Bimbo tucked firmly under one arm and psychotic fantasies firmly engrained in his mind but the fact is despite all that Leonard has done to him, he has walked away from a confrontation. Hey, who knows, I am sure he will be back with Zelda in tow, but the fact is that even if he does return to pursue Leonard Fox, it will be to further enhance his own career, not to change things for the better.
And therein lies the crux of the issue, the heartbeat of the cancerous growth that sucks the life out of this business.
Only I have the guts to stand up for what is right, not for myself, but for the majority.
Only I have the burning passion inside me to rip this company apart, to topple the dictators and to defeat the pretenders to make things better.
Only I have what it takes to engineer a shift away from the tyrannical autocracy that strangles NCW.
Nathan Webb can promote benevolent dictators all he likes, oh yeah, hi there by the way Nathan…
Waves mockingly.
But the fact is this, and this alone. The men who feast on the spoils of this company aren’t fit to head any form of benevolent leadership. I’m not an advocate of some sort of glorious democracy at the head of this business, where every man has a vote and every employee from the CEO to the janitor are equal, but what I am an advocate of is of a leadership structure that doesn’t stink foul of the corruption it wallows in.
Leonard Fox is not fit to lead this company, Keybo Shabaz doesn’t deserve to be the mouth piece of this organisation and Nikki Matthews is nothing more than glorified eye candy, masquerading as the head of a division that reeks of sexual exploitation. Brent Sampson and Drake Tyson are no better. Every single one of those men who sat around that table to decide my fate a few weeks ago has no place in this business, dispensing their ill-informed wisdom from a position of decadent comfort.
I know that a sigh of relief was expelled when Xander pinned my shoulders to the mat in Boston, but what every single one of those vultures failed to realise is that I was never defined by the X-Championship. My voice was not bound to the apparel around my mid-drift and nor is it silenced by the lack of it, the dye is cast.
The Board of Directors have a simple choice; they can either conform willingly or suffer the consequences. Their time in the sun is spent, dusk fast approaches and the cold hands of night will be less forgiving of their sins.
The door opens revealing the figures of Roberto Verona and Hannah Reed as they saunter into the space with an air of grace that is soon dispersed as the realities of their surroundings sink in. Staring around the pair look upon a filthy and ill-kept locker room, the walls covered in grime and the floorboards rotting beneath their feet. Roberto shrugs off his run down quarters, marching further into the room as Hannah turns on a light, further revealing the decadent state of the room. Screwing up her nose in disgust Hannah walks into the middle of the room, placing her handbag on the floor besides her as the foul stench of the previous occupants sting her nostrils, causing her to screw up her nose in despair.
Hannah Reed : Well this is….different.
Hannah looks around the room, a look of disappointment running across her face.
Roberto Verona : This is a ****hole, let’s not beat around the bush Hannah. What else did you expect?
Hannah Reed : A locker room where I wouldn’t catch anything from the toilet seat perhaps. Or even one with a mirror, you know, luxuries like that.
Roberto tosses his gym bag onto a nearby bench, one of the wooden planks snapping on impact.
Roberto Verona : Well, you had better get used to it now Jacobsen has taken his ball home and Xander is parading around with the X-Championship.
Hannah Reed : Yeah….about Andrew…
Roberto Verona : What about him?
Hannah Reed : Well, if he has really quit and the rumours are true and the Young Guns are well and truly over, what are you going to do about it?
Roberto Verona : Nothing.
The room falls silent for a moment as Hannah’s face is awash with confusion.
Hannah Reed : Nothing?
Roberto Verona : Yes. Nothing.
Hannah Reed : You’re just going to let the Young Guns die?
Roberto Verona : Our union has run its course Hannah, the fact is that Xander was more than right, I don’t need the Young Guns, certainly not with a leader who has failed at every hurdle. If anything, I can now pursue my goals unhindered by faction politics.
Hannah Reed : And what about Lex and Jimmy? Are you just going to up sticks and abandon them?
Roberto chuckles, shaking his head as he begins to unpack his things.
Roberto Verona : Did you not watch Lex? He tore Angel to shreds. I am sure the pair of them will be just fine; they both know I have no qualms with either of them. Listen, this is really a good thing, now I can concentrate fully on removing the festering boils that blight NCW, one by one.
Hannah Reed : Perhaps…. Just all of this is so sudden.
Roberto Verona : You have a lot to learn Hannah, this business isn’t forgiving and it can change in an instant. If Andrew wants to quit, then let him. If the Young Guns are dead, so be it. I am still here and I have plenty left to achieve, this is just a new chapter.
Hannah Reed : I suppose… I just don’t want to get used to this.
Hannah points around the decrepit locker room.
Roberto Verona : We’re lucky to even have this, the more I rattle Leonard’s cage the worse it’ll get.
Hannah Reed : Brilliant….
Roberto Verona : It’ll take a bit of adjusting to but just be glad that it is my wallet that pays for our accommodation, you can enjoy the life of luxury back at the hotels.
Hannah Reed : Well… when you put it like that.
Roberto Verona : Suck it up Reed, it is all for the greater good. Let them push all the buttons they like, a few dingy locker rooms won’t put a stop to what is coming. If this is the best they’ve got then this’ll be easier than I thought.
Hannah Reed : As long as you know what you’re doing.
Roberto Verona : I always do Hannah. Look, it is going to be a culture shock but we’ve spent time together in worse places than this.
Hannah Reed : And what is that supposed to mean?
Roberto Verona : Benji’s Motel and Grill.
A sudden look of horror grips Hannah’s delicate feature as she swallows deeply before shuddering.
Hannah Reed : Touché. I swear to god if we are ever on the road again, we drive straight past that place and pitch up a tent in a Rattlesnake’s nest, it’d be a more welcoming experience.
Roberto Verona : How about next time you read up on the motels you book, I really don’t want you calling me at 3am to come get you again because a rat “stole your shoe”.
Hannah Reed : Hey! I am not lying, they were like mutants or something.
Roberto Verona : Well, whatever you do, don’t look behind you…
Hannah submits, unable to stand her ground and keep her eyes away from the corner of the room behind her. As she turns a small rodent scurries into a crack in the wall causing her to yelp, staggering towards Roberto before slapping him on the arm.
Hannah Reed : Get me the hell out of here. Now.
Roberto Verona : Whatever you say, I’ve had my fun. I think we can call it a day here.
Hannah picks up her handbag and sharply heads towards the exit, followed slowly by Roberto who goes to flick the light switch, only for the bulb to blow out before he reaches it, leaving the room cloaked in a darkness as a sigh permeates the silence.
Who is John Galt? I suppose I ‘d better pander to your whims for a moment Nathan instead of childishly delighting you all with “Who Cares”.
Let me guess, you’re being very clever and slipping in a pop culture reference to make a point about my “mission” and my philosophy? Am I right?
Listen whilst I appreciate that you’d love for me to get lost in an analysis of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged in some sort of intellectual macho debate, I aren’t going to pander to your baited riddle. Instead I am going to pose a different question.
Who is Roberto Verona?
Is he a self-proclaimed revolutionary whose own sense of grandeur overshadows his good intentions?
Is he really as talented as they all say, or did Xander Famularo uncover the “truth”?
Is he just another loud mouth full of ideas who is totally incapable of backing up his wild claims?
Let me tell you who I am Nathan, because John Galt is neither here nor there.
I’m a man with a purpose, whether it is one you agree or disagree with. I’m a man who is driven to serve those who cannot fight back, by any means necessary even if that makes me the bad guy. I’m a man who’s got all the skills required to make something of myself in this business.
But most importantly, I’m a man who is done playing games.
I am through just going through the motions and pulling stunts to get noticed around here. I’m done with mindless sycophants like Todd Williams wasting my time and merely postponing my real ambitions. I’m done with the factions and the politics.
I’m not going to waste my time towing the party line, kissing Leonard’s feet and bending over just to get a shot at a belt to caress my self-worth like the rest of you. I came to NCW to make a difference, not just talk about making one. I’ve spent my time adjusting to this environment by playing the games this business demands I play, but the time for that is over.
This week you just happen to be my opponent, a man who is being thrown into the lion’s den to measure where is he on the career ladder, nothing more than that. You’re just another speed bump on the road to my true destination, perhaps you do have what it takes to make something of yourself in NCW Nathan, but it is of little consequence to me. Our match is simply business, and I rarely fail to get the job done.
I know you are going to “cut deep” in your little scathing session you have all warmed up for me Nathan, and I am sure I will have something to say in response, but the main thing that the world of NCW needs to absorb is that now, all my distractions are displaced.
No longer do I need to concentrate on watching my back at every turn as pretenders to the X-Championship gather to plot my demise. No longer do I need to worry about this pathetic little war between the Young Guns and Flashbang.
Now all of my focus is on exactly what it always should have been, the only thing that really matters in this whole sorry mess.
Change.
Viva La Révolution.
Claps
Congratulations Xander, you brought your A-Game with you and picked up a narrow victory at Picture Perfect. I won’t pretend I aren’t disappointed to kiss goodbye to the gold which has been draped around my waist for two months but in the end, on that occasion, you were the better man.
Why bother with this show of respect?
I care enough to say well done because you proved you’re not just one of Leonard’s corporate honey tongues, you seemingly do actually give a crap about the hordes of people who line your pockets. You really are in this business for the right reasons and clearly I was wrong about you.
I aren’t going to stand here, stare into this camera and start ranting about how I was screwed, that you somehow managed to do some obscure wrong and profited from your ill-deeds because the fact is you beat me fair and square.
I said I would walk out of that arena with my head held high and that is exactly what I did Xander. You took your opportunity and you received the spoils, those are the breaks but I do not hang my head in shame. Wallowing in self-pity is for the self-defeatists who have come, and rapidly gone, from this company. This was a setback nothing more, nothing less but make no mistake about it you did everything you said you would.
Perhaps I should stomp my heels and cry like a spoiled brat, perhaps I should declare you a cheat and a cad or perhaps I should go screaming at the booking committee for a re-match. Perhaps, but then I wouldn’t be any better than the rest of the men and women who populate Leonard’s payroll and the fact is, I’m nothing like those blood sucking opportunistic parasites.
I may have lost my crown, but I haven’t lost sight of my purpose, if anything I’m more determined than ever. In my short absence Leonard Fox has further demonstrated his despotic tendencies, tossing aside World Champions and stooges alike in pursuit of the almighty dollar, all to satisfy his financial lust and insatiable ego. This past week has proved why my course is just and true, because nobody else has the balls to stand up for what is right in this company.
Oh sure, Rob Diamond got his panties in a twist and walked out of NCW in a petulant rage, his token Nintendo Bimbo tucked firmly under one arm and psychotic fantasies firmly engrained in his mind but the fact is despite all that Leonard has done to him, he has walked away from a confrontation. Hey, who knows, I am sure he will be back with Zelda in tow, but the fact is that even if he does return to pursue Leonard Fox, it will be to further enhance his own career, not to change things for the better.
And therein lies the crux of the issue, the heartbeat of the cancerous growth that sucks the life out of this business.
Only I have the guts to stand up for what is right, not for myself, but for the majority.
Only I have the burning passion inside me to rip this company apart, to topple the dictators and to defeat the pretenders to make things better.
Only I have what it takes to engineer a shift away from the tyrannical autocracy that strangles NCW.
Nathan Webb can promote benevolent dictators all he likes, oh yeah, hi there by the way Nathan…
Waves mockingly.
But the fact is this, and this alone. The men who feast on the spoils of this company aren’t fit to head any form of benevolent leadership. I’m not an advocate of some sort of glorious democracy at the head of this business, where every man has a vote and every employee from the CEO to the janitor are equal, but what I am an advocate of is of a leadership structure that doesn’t stink foul of the corruption it wallows in.
Leonard Fox is not fit to lead this company, Keybo Shabaz doesn’t deserve to be the mouth piece of this organisation and Nikki Matthews is nothing more than glorified eye candy, masquerading as the head of a division that reeks of sexual exploitation. Brent Sampson and Drake Tyson are no better. Every single one of those men who sat around that table to decide my fate a few weeks ago has no place in this business, dispensing their ill-informed wisdom from a position of decadent comfort.
I know that a sigh of relief was expelled when Xander pinned my shoulders to the mat in Boston, but what every single one of those vultures failed to realise is that I was never defined by the X-Championship. My voice was not bound to the apparel around my mid-drift and nor is it silenced by the lack of it, the dye is cast.
The Board of Directors have a simple choice; they can either conform willingly or suffer the consequences. Their time in the sun is spent, dusk fast approaches and the cold hands of night will be less forgiving of their sins.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The door opens revealing the figures of Roberto Verona and Hannah Reed as they saunter into the space with an air of grace that is soon dispersed as the realities of their surroundings sink in. Staring around the pair look upon a filthy and ill-kept locker room, the walls covered in grime and the floorboards rotting beneath their feet. Roberto shrugs off his run down quarters, marching further into the room as Hannah turns on a light, further revealing the decadent state of the room. Screwing up her nose in disgust Hannah walks into the middle of the room, placing her handbag on the floor besides her as the foul stench of the previous occupants sting her nostrils, causing her to screw up her nose in despair.
Hannah Reed : Well this is….different.
Hannah looks around the room, a look of disappointment running across her face.
Roberto Verona : This is a ****hole, let’s not beat around the bush Hannah. What else did you expect?
Hannah Reed : A locker room where I wouldn’t catch anything from the toilet seat perhaps. Or even one with a mirror, you know, luxuries like that.
Roberto tosses his gym bag onto a nearby bench, one of the wooden planks snapping on impact.
Roberto Verona : Well, you had better get used to it now Jacobsen has taken his ball home and Xander is parading around with the X-Championship.
Hannah Reed : Yeah….about Andrew…
Roberto Verona : What about him?
Hannah Reed : Well, if he has really quit and the rumours are true and the Young Guns are well and truly over, what are you going to do about it?
Roberto Verona : Nothing.
The room falls silent for a moment as Hannah’s face is awash with confusion.
Hannah Reed : Nothing?
Roberto Verona : Yes. Nothing.
Hannah Reed : You’re just going to let the Young Guns die?
Roberto Verona : Our union has run its course Hannah, the fact is that Xander was more than right, I don’t need the Young Guns, certainly not with a leader who has failed at every hurdle. If anything, I can now pursue my goals unhindered by faction politics.
Hannah Reed : And what about Lex and Jimmy? Are you just going to up sticks and abandon them?
Roberto chuckles, shaking his head as he begins to unpack his things.
Roberto Verona : Did you not watch Lex? He tore Angel to shreds. I am sure the pair of them will be just fine; they both know I have no qualms with either of them. Listen, this is really a good thing, now I can concentrate fully on removing the festering boils that blight NCW, one by one.
Hannah Reed : Perhaps…. Just all of this is so sudden.
Roberto Verona : You have a lot to learn Hannah, this business isn’t forgiving and it can change in an instant. If Andrew wants to quit, then let him. If the Young Guns are dead, so be it. I am still here and I have plenty left to achieve, this is just a new chapter.
Hannah Reed : I suppose… I just don’t want to get used to this.
Hannah points around the decrepit locker room.
Roberto Verona : We’re lucky to even have this, the more I rattle Leonard’s cage the worse it’ll get.
Hannah Reed : Brilliant….
Roberto Verona : It’ll take a bit of adjusting to but just be glad that it is my wallet that pays for our accommodation, you can enjoy the life of luxury back at the hotels.
Hannah Reed : Well… when you put it like that.
Roberto Verona : Suck it up Reed, it is all for the greater good. Let them push all the buttons they like, a few dingy locker rooms won’t put a stop to what is coming. If this is the best they’ve got then this’ll be easier than I thought.
Hannah Reed : As long as you know what you’re doing.
Roberto Verona : I always do Hannah. Look, it is going to be a culture shock but we’ve spent time together in worse places than this.
Hannah Reed : And what is that supposed to mean?
Roberto Verona : Benji’s Motel and Grill.
A sudden look of horror grips Hannah’s delicate feature as she swallows deeply before shuddering.
Hannah Reed : Touché. I swear to god if we are ever on the road again, we drive straight past that place and pitch up a tent in a Rattlesnake’s nest, it’d be a more welcoming experience.
Roberto Verona : How about next time you read up on the motels you book, I really don’t want you calling me at 3am to come get you again because a rat “stole your shoe”.
Hannah Reed : Hey! I am not lying, they were like mutants or something.
Roberto Verona : Well, whatever you do, don’t look behind you…
Hannah submits, unable to stand her ground and keep her eyes away from the corner of the room behind her. As she turns a small rodent scurries into a crack in the wall causing her to yelp, staggering towards Roberto before slapping him on the arm.
Hannah Reed : Get me the hell out of here. Now.
Roberto Verona : Whatever you say, I’ve had my fun. I think we can call it a day here.
Hannah picks up her handbag and sharply heads towards the exit, followed slowly by Roberto who goes to flick the light switch, only for the bulb to blow out before he reaches it, leaving the room cloaked in a darkness as a sigh permeates the silence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who is John Galt? I suppose I ‘d better pander to your whims for a moment Nathan instead of childishly delighting you all with “Who Cares”.
Let me guess, you’re being very clever and slipping in a pop culture reference to make a point about my “mission” and my philosophy? Am I right?
Listen whilst I appreciate that you’d love for me to get lost in an analysis of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged in some sort of intellectual macho debate, I aren’t going to pander to your baited riddle. Instead I am going to pose a different question.
Who is Roberto Verona?
Is he a self-proclaimed revolutionary whose own sense of grandeur overshadows his good intentions?
Is he really as talented as they all say, or did Xander Famularo uncover the “truth”?
Is he just another loud mouth full of ideas who is totally incapable of backing up his wild claims?
Let me tell you who I am Nathan, because John Galt is neither here nor there.
I’m a man with a purpose, whether it is one you agree or disagree with. I’m a man who is driven to serve those who cannot fight back, by any means necessary even if that makes me the bad guy. I’m a man who’s got all the skills required to make something of myself in this business.
But most importantly, I’m a man who is done playing games.
I am through just going through the motions and pulling stunts to get noticed around here. I’m done with mindless sycophants like Todd Williams wasting my time and merely postponing my real ambitions. I’m done with the factions and the politics.
I’m not going to waste my time towing the party line, kissing Leonard’s feet and bending over just to get a shot at a belt to caress my self-worth like the rest of you. I came to NCW to make a difference, not just talk about making one. I’ve spent my time adjusting to this environment by playing the games this business demands I play, but the time for that is over.
This week you just happen to be my opponent, a man who is being thrown into the lion’s den to measure where is he on the career ladder, nothing more than that. You’re just another speed bump on the road to my true destination, perhaps you do have what it takes to make something of yourself in NCW Nathan, but it is of little consequence to me. Our match is simply business, and I rarely fail to get the job done.
I know you are going to “cut deep” in your little scathing session you have all warmed up for me Nathan, and I am sure I will have something to say in response, but the main thing that the world of NCW needs to absorb is that now, all my distractions are displaced.
No longer do I need to concentrate on watching my back at every turn as pretenders to the X-Championship gather to plot my demise. No longer do I need to worry about this pathetic little war between the Young Guns and Flashbang.
Now all of my focus is on exactly what it always should have been, the only thing that really matters in this whole sorry mess.
Change.
Viva La Révolution.