Post by Robby Marshall on May 20, 2010 20:45:07 GMT -6
Sitting alone in a trashed room is Robby Marshall.
There is trash everywhere.
Cigarette butts, mashed and mangled, fill an ashtray to overflowing.
Beer cans of the cheapest brand lay mangled and empty all over the place.
Clothes, from all members of a family are strewn on the floor, on the couch, on the table, and everywhere else.
The couch is rugged. Holes in it, stuffing falling out, springs showing, stains, and burns make the couch look like the victim of a gangland beating.
Robby Marshall, wearing a hooded shirt, pulls back the hood and looks at the camera.
"Yo, what's up, camera man?"
There is no answer.
"I see, strong silent type. That's cool."
Robby waves his hand, motioning to the room.
"So, I bet you're wondering why I brought you here, huh?"
Still, no answer.
"Well, we all do our promos in different places. Adds to our character, gives our personality different dimensions. Adds to things, I guess, adds flavor."
The camera pans, showing all that we saw to begin with, along with a few more stains on the floor, half-eaten food on the floor growing mold, and an odd chalk drawing under a pile of boxes.
"This, this was my home."
Robby gets up off the couch and pulls out a chair. The clothes fall off of it when leaned and he sits down.
"I sat right here that night. I watched my family tear itself apart."
Robby lowers his head.
"My opponent, James Davis, believes he has me figured out. He thinks he has the intelligent edge on me. He's got a whole mouthful of his suppositions and assumptions.."
Robby looks at the camera. His eyes are filled with angst.
"Truth is.. he's right."
Robby stands up suddenly, kicking over the chair.
"I did come from a hard life, Davis! I did bust my knuckles on the rocks, I broke and bled to pull myself up out of this hell hole! But do you honestly think that because what you've seen is all I am?!"
Robby calms, his face smiling.
"Well.. if you believe that.. then I'm going to kill you."
He says this matter-of-factly. No rage, no hate, just a pure statement.
"You think you're so smart? You like to toss big words around, act all cerebral, think you got the one-up on every one you face? Isn't that everybody's schtick? Everybody cuts promos like that.
Mockingly: I got your number! I know all about you! I know your every move, I banged your momma! PPbbsh! You might seem all smart and study, but all you got is a few paced steps and barking."
Robby puts his middle finger in the camera.
"How sesquipedalian of you."
Robby turns, then turns back, facing the camera again.
"Sorry about that, Fox. Blur it or cut it if you have to. I should know better than to disrespect your company like that. I promise I'll do better."
Robby smiles again.
"Aww, shucks. Who the f**k am i kiddin'? F**k you, Fox. F**k you, NCW. I know you all could give a sh*t less.. I've been on the forums, I've read the blogs. Does anybody even know what my f**kin' nickname is?
"They call me Shady for a f**kin' reason! I've lurked your chat boxes, your back halls, your Facey-spaces and your Tweety pages! I know what you d**ks been sayin' bout me. Do you think i give a f**k?!
"James Davis wants to run his mouth? Destructor wants run his too? That's going to happen. I knew that. I expected that.
"But I'm bettin' none of you expected me to have some incling of intelligence. I bet you all thought I was going to come out next week in Zubaz with a high-top fade or somethin' dumb like that! Heh! I ain't been here for long and already I'm being picked out like some one trick pony?"
There's that middle finger again. This time it's pixelated.
"Oops. There I go, doing the same old routine.
"You all better get this straight.
"I got no love for ya'll. Ya'll don't show no love to 'Shady' either. So we on the same page now? Do we have an understanding?"
Robby leans down and picks up a small shoe.
"You bring what you got, James. You bring it down to that ring. Your knucks, if you want. I live hardcore, f**ker. You think that will make a difference? I know you want this match to go raw, yeah, I saw you askin'. That surprise you?
"I'd get myself disqualified just to wipe that stupid look of your face."
Robby tosses the shoe onto the couch. It bounces onto the floor, rolling under a pile of full trashbags.
"Oh.. that's just your face."
There is trash everywhere.
Cigarette butts, mashed and mangled, fill an ashtray to overflowing.
Beer cans of the cheapest brand lay mangled and empty all over the place.
Clothes, from all members of a family are strewn on the floor, on the couch, on the table, and everywhere else.
The couch is rugged. Holes in it, stuffing falling out, springs showing, stains, and burns make the couch look like the victim of a gangland beating.
Robby Marshall, wearing a hooded shirt, pulls back the hood and looks at the camera.
"Yo, what's up, camera man?"
There is no answer.
"I see, strong silent type. That's cool."
Robby waves his hand, motioning to the room.
"So, I bet you're wondering why I brought you here, huh?"
Still, no answer.
"Well, we all do our promos in different places. Adds to our character, gives our personality different dimensions. Adds to things, I guess, adds flavor."
The camera pans, showing all that we saw to begin with, along with a few more stains on the floor, half-eaten food on the floor growing mold, and an odd chalk drawing under a pile of boxes.
"This, this was my home."
Robby gets up off the couch and pulls out a chair. The clothes fall off of it when leaned and he sits down.
"I sat right here that night. I watched my family tear itself apart."
Robby lowers his head.
"My opponent, James Davis, believes he has me figured out. He thinks he has the intelligent edge on me. He's got a whole mouthful of his suppositions and assumptions.."
Robby looks at the camera. His eyes are filled with angst.
"Truth is.. he's right."
Robby stands up suddenly, kicking over the chair.
"I did come from a hard life, Davis! I did bust my knuckles on the rocks, I broke and bled to pull myself up out of this hell hole! But do you honestly think that because what you've seen is all I am?!"
Robby calms, his face smiling.
"Well.. if you believe that.. then I'm going to kill you."
He says this matter-of-factly. No rage, no hate, just a pure statement.
"You think you're so smart? You like to toss big words around, act all cerebral, think you got the one-up on every one you face? Isn't that everybody's schtick? Everybody cuts promos like that.
Mockingly: I got your number! I know all about you! I know your every move, I banged your momma! PPbbsh! You might seem all smart and study, but all you got is a few paced steps and barking."
Robby puts his middle finger in the camera.
"How sesquipedalian of you."
Robby turns, then turns back, facing the camera again.
"Sorry about that, Fox. Blur it or cut it if you have to. I should know better than to disrespect your company like that. I promise I'll do better."
Robby smiles again.
"Aww, shucks. Who the f**k am i kiddin'? F**k you, Fox. F**k you, NCW. I know you all could give a sh*t less.. I've been on the forums, I've read the blogs. Does anybody even know what my f**kin' nickname is?
"They call me Shady for a f**kin' reason! I've lurked your chat boxes, your back halls, your Facey-spaces and your Tweety pages! I know what you d**ks been sayin' bout me. Do you think i give a f**k?!
"James Davis wants to run his mouth? Destructor wants run his too? That's going to happen. I knew that. I expected that.
"But I'm bettin' none of you expected me to have some incling of intelligence. I bet you all thought I was going to come out next week in Zubaz with a high-top fade or somethin' dumb like that! Heh! I ain't been here for long and already I'm being picked out like some one trick pony?"
There's that middle finger again. This time it's pixelated.
"Oops. There I go, doing the same old routine.
"You all better get this straight.
"I got no love for ya'll. Ya'll don't show no love to 'Shady' either. So we on the same page now? Do we have an understanding?"
Robby leans down and picks up a small shoe.
"You bring what you got, James. You bring it down to that ring. Your knucks, if you want. I live hardcore, f**ker. You think that will make a difference? I know you want this match to go raw, yeah, I saw you askin'. That surprise you?
"I'd get myself disqualified just to wipe that stupid look of your face."
Robby tosses the shoe onto the couch. It bounces onto the floor, rolling under a pile of full trashbags.
"Oh.. that's just your face."