Post by Xander Famularo on Feb 9, 2013 21:13:10 GMT -6
Nathan Webb is it funny how in one week so much can change. A week ago you were the man who recently unseated the King, making him desire nothing more then to be back in the office and now you are just another chump. You are but another insignificant ant being squashed by a larger and more powerful creature.
And thus, now that I have torn you apart and made you open your eyes to the error of your arrogance, I will move forth, I will step towards the next imbecile who needs a constant reminder that he is nothing more then a pile, a pile of human excrement.
Yeah, I am talking to you Jacobsen, I am sure you understood when I said human excrement, after fiddling through your dictionary with your barely usable opposing thumbs that I was talking to you, because even you in yourself know that you have been nothing more then a joke around here. For each moment of grandiloquence you have it is easily followed by months of infamy, months of useless meandering in a pile of mediocrity. You are the master Jacobsen; you are the next big superstar aren’t you?
You are a former world champion, one month. You are a former national champion, one month and for those two months people took you seriously, people thought that you were something to look at, that you were going to rise to the potential that everyone said you were capable, that everyone expected.
And then, like a slow fart escaping the bowels of an old man your great moments of success slipped away just like they always do, you are your own self fulfilling prophecy. You have done nothing beyond becoming the laughing stock of ncw, a joke for the upper echelon to look down at, like a child, like a little boy trying to figure out a way to get the cookies off the top of the fridge.
I know, this week you are going to brag about how you defeated me for the ncw championship, how your subsequent title reign broke all the records and made you hall of fame worthy, only, the reality is that in beating me you only proved one thing. And that thing was that, anyone can win on any given day. I had made wrestling a science, defeating and debilitating opponent after opponent, I will never lie about why I lost to you, and I will never make excuses about it. I lost because I thought there was no way in hell a little pansy ass like you could ever defeat me in a wrestling match.
I took you for granted and you shocked the world. You shocked the world at my expense. Only, I am not one who allows a debt to stay out, I don’t allow a debt to go unpaid and this weekend I start collecting. This weekend I am going to start tearing you apart, pulling you apart until you don’t know who you are.
And the funny thing is Andrew, I am doing it for you, I am going to show you all your weakness I am going to expose it for the whole world to see and then, perhaps you can start to correct your errors.
Or more likely you will continue to be mediocre and apathetic, let’s be honest. Improving isn’t easy, and I honestly don’t think you have the cajones to make the necessary steps.
{Scene opens to the basement gym at Gib’s house, Xander is in the ring sparring with an unknown wrestler. The other fellow seems technically sound as he uses some chain wrestling to get the advantage over Xander. Xander tries to reverse a hold and the other man easily uses his momentum to drop him to the ground… Gib yells from the side}
Gib: Jesus man, would you quit the wristlock **** and just drop the ****er on his head
{Xander grabs his arm over his opponents head and lifts him into the air into a one arm suplex, he falls to the ground nailing a brainbuster.}
Gib: Holy ****ing **** it is about time. I thought you were going to keep that going well into my Murder She Wrote time. What the hell were you waiting for?
Xander: Adam always told me I need to practice my skills; I need to be able to counter each move with a move, not with some excessive feat of strength.
Gib: Look boy, Adam and I, we have been the greatest friends and the biggest enemies but one thing he doesn’t know is that technical wrestling is for people that don’t have the last name Famularo, otherwise known as inferior races.
Xander: We aren’t our own race…
Gib: Or are we?
Xander: No, we aren’t.
Gib: Agree to disagree, anyhoo. You need to realize, there are plenty of wrestlers that can do that comoesta wrestling bull****. There is a market for that, it is called Mexico, and the last I checked we aren’t surrounded by migrant workers and Cesar Chavez.
Xander: No, we certainly aren’t.
Gib: Thus, don’t worry about flipping around on your head like some monkey trying to **** a football. You reach that hand back to Texas, just north of Mexico and you rifle it forward for some non Famularo, and you blast his face into next Tuesday. Who the **** are you wrestling anyway?
Xander: Mike Laslow and Andrew Jacobsen.
Gib: Holy ****, two of the men that beat you last year. ****, you are dead. In a handicap match?
Xander: No, I have the Ace as a partner.
Gib: A double secret handicap match?
Xander: Dude the Ace is a former world champion and current national champion. I am happy to have him on my team.
Gib: The dude is mediocre, but hey at least he didn’t beat you too. My prediction, you count the lights this weekend.
Xander: You really are a ****ty trainer.
Gib: I know.
Xander: Why did you say you would help me.
Gib: I don’t know…
Xander: For god’s sake.
{Scene fades}
Mike Laslow, so close eh buddy? I mean you were right there the title within your grasp for three long months and now you are on the outside looking in. You are like a puppy dog in a kennel waiting for someone to take them home, but no one will because down deep everyone knows something about that puppy dog.
It is weak.
It has no resolve.
It will never be the champion. Hell, I deeply wonder if Michael Vick would pick you from a Kennel, because you aren’t a winner you are, plain and simple, a loser. And that is where the problem lies. The crowd, they want to get behind you but they know that you aren’t going to beat anyone anymore. You had your ride to the top, you had your shot at the coveted prize and you threw it away. You were defeated by a better man.
So where does that put you? Are you going after the Ace’s title now, understanding the fact that you may not be meant to hold the biggest prize of all, and instead you have to settle for the next best thing. Will you transition from one attempt to another, from one member of my super group to another? Because I am going to tell you, you are not going to beat the Ace either. Not on my watch because, I have a role to serve now. I want to keep the status quo for awhile, I know that when titles go from one person to another they lose their luster and I for one am sick of seeing the titles go from one person to another merry go round style.
I understand, both of you defeated me, in a single match. But how many times have we faced? How many times did I humiliate the two of you before the apple fell towards you? See, this business is all about timing, and if you go against someone enough times, eventually the timing is on your side. Those two losses I took, they were hard on me, and the reason they were hard was because I knew that I lost to supremely inferior opponents.
I knew that because of my lack of foresight that I upset the balance of power. Me, losing a match to either of you is like the bully getting the swirly, it just doesn’t make sense but every now and then it happens, there are exceptions to the rule Michael, but just because there is an exception it doesn’t change the grand picture, it doesn’t take away the power of the rule.
And the rule here is universal. I am superior, I am with the title or without the title the greatest wrestler that has ever walked in this federation, ask anyone, ask Verona the champion, ask The Ace my partner, ask any of those that have walked to the ring or against me, I am the very best.
And that isn’t a title I plan on trifling with.
I prove to the world where I belong, when I avenge my last two losses in a single night.
And thus, now that I have torn you apart and made you open your eyes to the error of your arrogance, I will move forth, I will step towards the next imbecile who needs a constant reminder that he is nothing more then a pile, a pile of human excrement.
Yeah, I am talking to you Jacobsen, I am sure you understood when I said human excrement, after fiddling through your dictionary with your barely usable opposing thumbs that I was talking to you, because even you in yourself know that you have been nothing more then a joke around here. For each moment of grandiloquence you have it is easily followed by months of infamy, months of useless meandering in a pile of mediocrity. You are the master Jacobsen; you are the next big superstar aren’t you?
You are a former world champion, one month. You are a former national champion, one month and for those two months people took you seriously, people thought that you were something to look at, that you were going to rise to the potential that everyone said you were capable, that everyone expected.
And then, like a slow fart escaping the bowels of an old man your great moments of success slipped away just like they always do, you are your own self fulfilling prophecy. You have done nothing beyond becoming the laughing stock of ncw, a joke for the upper echelon to look down at, like a child, like a little boy trying to figure out a way to get the cookies off the top of the fridge.
I know, this week you are going to brag about how you defeated me for the ncw championship, how your subsequent title reign broke all the records and made you hall of fame worthy, only, the reality is that in beating me you only proved one thing. And that thing was that, anyone can win on any given day. I had made wrestling a science, defeating and debilitating opponent after opponent, I will never lie about why I lost to you, and I will never make excuses about it. I lost because I thought there was no way in hell a little pansy ass like you could ever defeat me in a wrestling match.
I took you for granted and you shocked the world. You shocked the world at my expense. Only, I am not one who allows a debt to stay out, I don’t allow a debt to go unpaid and this weekend I start collecting. This weekend I am going to start tearing you apart, pulling you apart until you don’t know who you are.
And the funny thing is Andrew, I am doing it for you, I am going to show you all your weakness I am going to expose it for the whole world to see and then, perhaps you can start to correct your errors.
Or more likely you will continue to be mediocre and apathetic, let’s be honest. Improving isn’t easy, and I honestly don’t think you have the cajones to make the necessary steps.
{Scene opens to the basement gym at Gib’s house, Xander is in the ring sparring with an unknown wrestler. The other fellow seems technically sound as he uses some chain wrestling to get the advantage over Xander. Xander tries to reverse a hold and the other man easily uses his momentum to drop him to the ground… Gib yells from the side}
Gib: Jesus man, would you quit the wristlock **** and just drop the ****er on his head
{Xander grabs his arm over his opponents head and lifts him into the air into a one arm suplex, he falls to the ground nailing a brainbuster.}
Gib: Holy ****ing **** it is about time. I thought you were going to keep that going well into my Murder She Wrote time. What the hell were you waiting for?
Xander: Adam always told me I need to practice my skills; I need to be able to counter each move with a move, not with some excessive feat of strength.
Gib: Look boy, Adam and I, we have been the greatest friends and the biggest enemies but one thing he doesn’t know is that technical wrestling is for people that don’t have the last name Famularo, otherwise known as inferior races.
Xander: We aren’t our own race…
Gib: Or are we?
Xander: No, we aren’t.
Gib: Agree to disagree, anyhoo. You need to realize, there are plenty of wrestlers that can do that comoesta wrestling bull****. There is a market for that, it is called Mexico, and the last I checked we aren’t surrounded by migrant workers and Cesar Chavez.
Xander: No, we certainly aren’t.
Gib: Thus, don’t worry about flipping around on your head like some monkey trying to **** a football. You reach that hand back to Texas, just north of Mexico and you rifle it forward for some non Famularo, and you blast his face into next Tuesday. Who the **** are you wrestling anyway?
Xander: Mike Laslow and Andrew Jacobsen.
Gib: Holy ****, two of the men that beat you last year. ****, you are dead. In a handicap match?
Xander: No, I have the Ace as a partner.
Gib: A double secret handicap match?
Xander: Dude the Ace is a former world champion and current national champion. I am happy to have him on my team.
Gib: The dude is mediocre, but hey at least he didn’t beat you too. My prediction, you count the lights this weekend.
Xander: You really are a ****ty trainer.
Gib: I know.
Xander: Why did you say you would help me.
Gib: I don’t know…
Xander: For god’s sake.
{Scene fades}
Mike Laslow, so close eh buddy? I mean you were right there the title within your grasp for three long months and now you are on the outside looking in. You are like a puppy dog in a kennel waiting for someone to take them home, but no one will because down deep everyone knows something about that puppy dog.
It is weak.
It has no resolve.
It will never be the champion. Hell, I deeply wonder if Michael Vick would pick you from a Kennel, because you aren’t a winner you are, plain and simple, a loser. And that is where the problem lies. The crowd, they want to get behind you but they know that you aren’t going to beat anyone anymore. You had your ride to the top, you had your shot at the coveted prize and you threw it away. You were defeated by a better man.
So where does that put you? Are you going after the Ace’s title now, understanding the fact that you may not be meant to hold the biggest prize of all, and instead you have to settle for the next best thing. Will you transition from one attempt to another, from one member of my super group to another? Because I am going to tell you, you are not going to beat the Ace either. Not on my watch because, I have a role to serve now. I want to keep the status quo for awhile, I know that when titles go from one person to another they lose their luster and I for one am sick of seeing the titles go from one person to another merry go round style.
I understand, both of you defeated me, in a single match. But how many times have we faced? How many times did I humiliate the two of you before the apple fell towards you? See, this business is all about timing, and if you go against someone enough times, eventually the timing is on your side. Those two losses I took, they were hard on me, and the reason they were hard was because I knew that I lost to supremely inferior opponents.
I knew that because of my lack of foresight that I upset the balance of power. Me, losing a match to either of you is like the bully getting the swirly, it just doesn’t make sense but every now and then it happens, there are exceptions to the rule Michael, but just because there is an exception it doesn’t change the grand picture, it doesn’t take away the power of the rule.
And the rule here is universal. I am superior, I am with the title or without the title the greatest wrestler that has ever walked in this federation, ask anyone, ask Verona the champion, ask The Ace my partner, ask any of those that have walked to the ring or against me, I am the very best.
And that isn’t a title I plan on trifling with.
I prove to the world where I belong, when I avenge my last two losses in a single night.