Post by Rob Diamond on Apr 30, 2013 11:53:13 GMT -6
{ It's just past one AM, Monday morning. Rob Diamond is showered, dressed and ready to pass out in his crappy hotel bed before catching a red eye in like 2 hours. He walks up to his rental car, a 2013 Kia Rio, if you know anything about Rob you know he loves his South Korean cars. He's about to toss his junk in the trunk when his best buddy in the world and a brother in infamy calls out to him. }
Steve: Sup my brother from hopefully a different mother.
{ He drops his bag in the trunk and laughs. }
Rob: Sup man.
Steve: Not much. Damn dude, what did you do to piss off Simon Daye, you bang his mom and start calling him son or something?
Rob: I haven't a freaking clue. The little hobbit is nuts, I'm telling you. Zelda figures out he's got a snatch between his legs and he gets all butt hurt like I'm the one giving it to her.
{ Steve looks around and leans in like he's trying to not be heard. }
Steve: You are, aren't you?
Rob: No man, we're just friends.
Steve: With bennies?
Rob: Just friends.
Steve: Ahhh that sucks.
Rob: Whatever. What do you need, a ride or something?
{ Steve, already half way in the car, shrugs and laughs. }
Steve: Well if your offering.
{ Robbie joins him in the car and the two head out for the evening. }
Steve: Heard your nephew Mike Honcho is in town, wanna party?
Rob: God, please don't remind me I'm related to him... Besides last time I partied with Honcho I woke up with a fat chick and a goat and creepy looking white dude.
{ Awkward silence. }
Steve: So... How's the kid?
Rob: Don't know. Never seen her.
Steve: Seriously?
Rob: Seriously.
Steve: That's horse **** man, they can't do that. You have rights.
Rob: Yeah well that dirty little bitch and her drug addict boyfriend have made sure to strip me of pretty much all of them.
{ Steve senses the nerve he's touched, he's not sure what to do, his instincts tell him to keep poking at it until he explodes. He goes with that. }
Steve: Can I ask you something without you getting all emo ragey at me and locking yourself in a closet while jamming to my chemical romance?
Rob: Sure.
Steve: You actually care about this kid, man, or are you just pissed that they have something that belongs to you?
{ The car comes to a sudden stop, there is a comical screech of the tires behind them as someone yells a few profanity's out the windows. Steve's head whips all around as he watches the various cars just miss them as Rob glares at him like Norman Bates in a Bed Bath and Beyond. }
Rob: Yeah, I do care. It's my flesh and blood, Steve... You know, when I was with Zelda, we talked about having a kid, man, we talked about having a family. About raising a kid differently than how we were raised. Raising a kid in a loving home. Yeah, it's not the way I wanted to have a kid but so what? She's out there and she doesn't deserve to be raised by worthless pieces of crap who couldn't give a **** less about her.
{ Steve mock wipes away a tear. }
Steve: That... Was... Beautiful. *Sniffle*
Rob: Shut up.
{ Rob pulls back out into traffic and the two best buddies for life continue to head toward the hotel. Steve begins fumbling with the radio. }
Steve: Just friends eh?
Rob: For the love of God, yes Steve, just friends.
Steve: Then you don't love her anymore?
{ At that exact moment Steve stops on a radio station playing the greatest song ever made ever in the universe, Journey's "Dont't stop believing." }
Steve: DON'T STOP! BELIEIVING!!!!
{ Fade. }
Man o'man it's the literal mother loving Ace.
How's it going big dawg? Been a long time since the last time we hung together. Had a big InFamous reunion a few months back over at Spike's place. Everybody made it, Bates, Steve, Spike. Well, everybody except for you...
What happened? The Ace becomes someone's hired gun and suddenly he's too good to hang out with the men who made him who he is today? Get a little extra doe in your pocket and now you sit at the cool kids table? Alright, I see how it is Jake, I see how it is. And it's cool. Now that you're someone's hired flunky you're just too damn good to hang out with your real friends?
Well you know what Jake?
Freak you, man, Freak you.
Hold up, before you go into your forty five minute rebuttle, everything I just said was laced with complete and total sarcasm.
We didn't invite you to the reunion. Sorry. We wanted to, we really did. Steve fought long and hard to get me to mail the invite but in the end we all decided as a group that we'd rather have fun. It's nothing personal or anything it's just that we could live without the crappy parlor tricks, ridiculous puns and the non stop necking with that ogre of a wife of yours. I mean, I'm sure she was totally hot once upon a time but Christ man, I wouldn't bone her with Steve's dick and that's saying something.
Now let me stop you, because I feel a "The Ace smirks" coming on as you go into some tirade about everything you've accomplished since I "quit" and give us your revisionists version of history.
I absolutely, positively do not give a single solitary rat's ass what you've done since I left NCW one year ago.
In fact, Jake, I couldn't care one tiny bit less, that's how little I care. Because, and let's be honest, all you've really done since I left is manage to stay exactly where you have always been since the day Adam Knite bitch smacked you back to where you belong.
Stuck in mediocrity.
In the middle.
Clawing at that glass ceiling, destined to never break it again.
While others, men who joined this company after you, like myself, Xander Famularo and Roberto Verona have gone on to really cement themselves as main event level talent, you've managed to lay claim to second best... So congrats buddy, you will always be remembered as the epitome of the second best wrestler in NCW... I guess that's better than being third???
I mean, maybe I'm wrong, but I thought the idea was to be the number one best, not number one's door man? Of course if I am wrong I'm sure the Ace will go into great detail as to why. Something along the lines of it's better to wipe Satan's ass in hell than it is to wipe God's ass in Heaven for half the price?
I don't know, he'll fill me in.
Now, I know what you're thinking, man Rob is talking a lot of smack for a guy who is teamed with someone who probably wants to kill him, I mean, there is no way he can win this match. And you'd be right for thinking that way Ace, you would, really. This match is a no win situation for me...
Just like last week. When the very same man was the special guest referee in my match and he VOWED to make sure I lose... And what did I do? No, seriously. What did I do Ace? Go ahead and take a moment to re-watch Collision so you can tell me what I did...
I FREAKING WON!
So ya gotta excuse me if I don't believe in no win situations. And yeah, you can take that Star Trek reference to the bank bitch because it's damn true.
Besides, I'm the guy with the mind numbingly predictable partner, meanwhile your teamed up with a retarded chimp in a blonde wig who is just as likely to cave your skull in with his hammer Meow Meow as he is to give you the hot tag to win the match. So good luck with that, Chachi, I think I'll take my mad jealous partner over the schitzo any damn day of the week and win this freaking match like a champ.
Booyah!
Speaking of retarded chimps, Curtis, whats it been like three weeks since my boy LD and I totally whooped you and your lame ass God's ass in the center of the ring? Man, that was fun, wasn't it? We should have a return match sometime, you know, but this time instead of having clowns as our partner we have real... Partners? OMG!!!! We've got the perfect opportunity to have that return match right here, right now this very week. It's as if Thor himself gift wrapped this with a perfect pretty pink bow...
You know Thor is a homosexual, right?
Not that there is anything wrong with that, I'm just saying.
Riddle me this, what do you want me to say Curt? I'm going to beat you even more definitively than I did in the last tag team match? I mean, really? I could sit here, chest puffed out, and act like that match was the end all be all of everything I've ever done and you can never top it and I'd probably be right in doing so because you're a grown man who sometimes wears a blonde wig and worships a lame ass comic book character....
In fact, I'd be justified in feeling that way but I don't. Mostly Curt, I feel sad. I feel a little bit of empathy for you. I feel like you were once this great, brutal professional wrestler who could cripple any man he stepped into the ring with and then... You became this walking joke. I mean, sure, some of us like to dress up as super villains in our spare time and all of that is well and good but when it comes down to brass tacks, when Rob Diamond is between those ropes, he is one of, if not the single best mother trucking wrestler on the planet.
I can back up my shenanigans is what I'm saying.
You can barely pick up wins on Trauma against the enhancement talent.
And that makes Rob Diamond a sad panda because unlike most of these assholes, I was a big fan of all your work in that other place. I was a huge fan of the way you just murdered people in the ring. I salivated over the blood you shed in the name of just being low down dirty little bastards.
Now we fast forward a few years and couple hundred pounds and a few too many blows to the head later and we've got Curtis D. Kanyon, resident NCW "Special" Competitor. I mean, one it's absolutely deplorable that they don't make you wear a helmet around back, least of all in the ring but two, it's just sad that a beautiful walrus such as yourself could have fallen so far.
Basically what I'm saying is...
What happened to you man? You used to be cool.
Your name, Curtis Kanyon, it used to mean something around here. People used to actually shudder when paired off against you. People used to actually wish to not face you. Not just because the smell was absolutely terribly to bare but because they knew there was a damn good chance of their career getting ended tonight. Now a days when someone like myself or even the Ace sees you standing across the ring from us. We're just kind of worried about committing a hate crime...
I mean, it's gotta be a hate crime to beat up the handicapped, right?
Look, you wanna prison rape Jake and that's fine. I want Simon Daye to eat **** and die, and that's fine. So lets do each other a favor and beat the holy **** out our partners for each other. After the show, I'll buy you some soap on a rope and a ice cream Sunday.
Deal?
Oh and one more thing...
Simon, go ahead and try and freak me again. Try it. But know this, Rob Mother Loving Diamond is completely and totally and utterly UN-FREAKABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SUCK IT!
{ It's now three in the morning and Rob Diamond is standing outside of his hotel in the cold, jacket zipped up, phone pressed to his ear. The look of pure anger and hatred tells us all we need to know as we hear him boarder line yelling. }
Rob: You don't have the right!
{ He paces as they respond on the other end. }
Rob: She's my daughter too Kate! I have rights.... No I don't care what the judge said... NO! You listen...
{ He's white knuckling the phone, you can hear stress fractures coming from his otter box. }
Rob: Look Kate, I have the right to see my kid... She was born in February and I haven't seen her one damn time... I just want to.... Listen... Dammit!....
{ Rob turns and slams his left fist into the stone wall of the hotel, blood begins to trickle down from the knuckles he just busted open. }
Rob: I sent some free passes to your apart with plane tickets, please come to Collision this week and let me see my kid for five minutes. All expenses paid.... Please... Fine... Good... See you Sunday.
{ Rob throws his back up against the wall and just slumps there for a couple of minutes before looking back down at his phone. He scrolls through it for a second before hitting a name and lifting it back up to his ear... }
Rob:... Hey Zee... You awake?
{ Fade. }
Steve: Sup my brother from hopefully a different mother.
{ He drops his bag in the trunk and laughs. }
Rob: Sup man.
Steve: Not much. Damn dude, what did you do to piss off Simon Daye, you bang his mom and start calling him son or something?
Rob: I haven't a freaking clue. The little hobbit is nuts, I'm telling you. Zelda figures out he's got a snatch between his legs and he gets all butt hurt like I'm the one giving it to her.
{ Steve looks around and leans in like he's trying to not be heard. }
Steve: You are, aren't you?
Rob: No man, we're just friends.
Steve: With bennies?
Rob: Just friends.
Steve: Ahhh that sucks.
Rob: Whatever. What do you need, a ride or something?
{ Steve, already half way in the car, shrugs and laughs. }
Steve: Well if your offering.
{ Robbie joins him in the car and the two head out for the evening. }
Steve: Heard your nephew Mike Honcho is in town, wanna party?
Rob: God, please don't remind me I'm related to him... Besides last time I partied with Honcho I woke up with a fat chick and a goat and creepy looking white dude.
{ Awkward silence. }
Steve: So... How's the kid?
Rob: Don't know. Never seen her.
Steve: Seriously?
Rob: Seriously.
Steve: That's horse **** man, they can't do that. You have rights.
Rob: Yeah well that dirty little bitch and her drug addict boyfriend have made sure to strip me of pretty much all of them.
{ Steve senses the nerve he's touched, he's not sure what to do, his instincts tell him to keep poking at it until he explodes. He goes with that. }
Steve: Can I ask you something without you getting all emo ragey at me and locking yourself in a closet while jamming to my chemical romance?
Rob: Sure.
Steve: You actually care about this kid, man, or are you just pissed that they have something that belongs to you?
{ The car comes to a sudden stop, there is a comical screech of the tires behind them as someone yells a few profanity's out the windows. Steve's head whips all around as he watches the various cars just miss them as Rob glares at him like Norman Bates in a Bed Bath and Beyond. }
Rob: Yeah, I do care. It's my flesh and blood, Steve... You know, when I was with Zelda, we talked about having a kid, man, we talked about having a family. About raising a kid differently than how we were raised. Raising a kid in a loving home. Yeah, it's not the way I wanted to have a kid but so what? She's out there and she doesn't deserve to be raised by worthless pieces of crap who couldn't give a **** less about her.
{ Steve mock wipes away a tear. }
Steve: That... Was... Beautiful. *Sniffle*
Rob: Shut up.
{ Rob pulls back out into traffic and the two best buddies for life continue to head toward the hotel. Steve begins fumbling with the radio. }
Steve: Just friends eh?
Rob: For the love of God, yes Steve, just friends.
Steve: Then you don't love her anymore?
{ At that exact moment Steve stops on a radio station playing the greatest song ever made ever in the universe, Journey's "Dont't stop believing." }
Steve: DON'T STOP! BELIEIVING!!!!
{ Fade. }
Man o'man it's the literal mother loving Ace.
How's it going big dawg? Been a long time since the last time we hung together. Had a big InFamous reunion a few months back over at Spike's place. Everybody made it, Bates, Steve, Spike. Well, everybody except for you...
What happened? The Ace becomes someone's hired gun and suddenly he's too good to hang out with the men who made him who he is today? Get a little extra doe in your pocket and now you sit at the cool kids table? Alright, I see how it is Jake, I see how it is. And it's cool. Now that you're someone's hired flunky you're just too damn good to hang out with your real friends?
Well you know what Jake?
Freak you, man, Freak you.
Hold up, before you go into your forty five minute rebuttle, everything I just said was laced with complete and total sarcasm.
We didn't invite you to the reunion. Sorry. We wanted to, we really did. Steve fought long and hard to get me to mail the invite but in the end we all decided as a group that we'd rather have fun. It's nothing personal or anything it's just that we could live without the crappy parlor tricks, ridiculous puns and the non stop necking with that ogre of a wife of yours. I mean, I'm sure she was totally hot once upon a time but Christ man, I wouldn't bone her with Steve's dick and that's saying something.
Now let me stop you, because I feel a "The Ace smirks" coming on as you go into some tirade about everything you've accomplished since I "quit" and give us your revisionists version of history.
I absolutely, positively do not give a single solitary rat's ass what you've done since I left NCW one year ago.
In fact, Jake, I couldn't care one tiny bit less, that's how little I care. Because, and let's be honest, all you've really done since I left is manage to stay exactly where you have always been since the day Adam Knite bitch smacked you back to where you belong.
Stuck in mediocrity.
In the middle.
Clawing at that glass ceiling, destined to never break it again.
While others, men who joined this company after you, like myself, Xander Famularo and Roberto Verona have gone on to really cement themselves as main event level talent, you've managed to lay claim to second best... So congrats buddy, you will always be remembered as the epitome of the second best wrestler in NCW... I guess that's better than being third???
I mean, maybe I'm wrong, but I thought the idea was to be the number one best, not number one's door man? Of course if I am wrong I'm sure the Ace will go into great detail as to why. Something along the lines of it's better to wipe Satan's ass in hell than it is to wipe God's ass in Heaven for half the price?
I don't know, he'll fill me in.
Now, I know what you're thinking, man Rob is talking a lot of smack for a guy who is teamed with someone who probably wants to kill him, I mean, there is no way he can win this match. And you'd be right for thinking that way Ace, you would, really. This match is a no win situation for me...
Just like last week. When the very same man was the special guest referee in my match and he VOWED to make sure I lose... And what did I do? No, seriously. What did I do Ace? Go ahead and take a moment to re-watch Collision so you can tell me what I did...
I FREAKING WON!
So ya gotta excuse me if I don't believe in no win situations. And yeah, you can take that Star Trek reference to the bank bitch because it's damn true.
Besides, I'm the guy with the mind numbingly predictable partner, meanwhile your teamed up with a retarded chimp in a blonde wig who is just as likely to cave your skull in with his hammer Meow Meow as he is to give you the hot tag to win the match. So good luck with that, Chachi, I think I'll take my mad jealous partner over the schitzo any damn day of the week and win this freaking match like a champ.
Booyah!
Speaking of retarded chimps, Curtis, whats it been like three weeks since my boy LD and I totally whooped you and your lame ass God's ass in the center of the ring? Man, that was fun, wasn't it? We should have a return match sometime, you know, but this time instead of having clowns as our partner we have real... Partners? OMG!!!! We've got the perfect opportunity to have that return match right here, right now this very week. It's as if Thor himself gift wrapped this with a perfect pretty pink bow...
You know Thor is a homosexual, right?
Not that there is anything wrong with that, I'm just saying.
Riddle me this, what do you want me to say Curt? I'm going to beat you even more definitively than I did in the last tag team match? I mean, really? I could sit here, chest puffed out, and act like that match was the end all be all of everything I've ever done and you can never top it and I'd probably be right in doing so because you're a grown man who sometimes wears a blonde wig and worships a lame ass comic book character....
In fact, I'd be justified in feeling that way but I don't. Mostly Curt, I feel sad. I feel a little bit of empathy for you. I feel like you were once this great, brutal professional wrestler who could cripple any man he stepped into the ring with and then... You became this walking joke. I mean, sure, some of us like to dress up as super villains in our spare time and all of that is well and good but when it comes down to brass tacks, when Rob Diamond is between those ropes, he is one of, if not the single best mother trucking wrestler on the planet.
I can back up my shenanigans is what I'm saying.
You can barely pick up wins on Trauma against the enhancement talent.
And that makes Rob Diamond a sad panda because unlike most of these assholes, I was a big fan of all your work in that other place. I was a huge fan of the way you just murdered people in the ring. I salivated over the blood you shed in the name of just being low down dirty little bastards.
Now we fast forward a few years and couple hundred pounds and a few too many blows to the head later and we've got Curtis D. Kanyon, resident NCW "Special" Competitor. I mean, one it's absolutely deplorable that they don't make you wear a helmet around back, least of all in the ring but two, it's just sad that a beautiful walrus such as yourself could have fallen so far.
Basically what I'm saying is...
What happened to you man? You used to be cool.
Your name, Curtis Kanyon, it used to mean something around here. People used to actually shudder when paired off against you. People used to actually wish to not face you. Not just because the smell was absolutely terribly to bare but because they knew there was a damn good chance of their career getting ended tonight. Now a days when someone like myself or even the Ace sees you standing across the ring from us. We're just kind of worried about committing a hate crime...
I mean, it's gotta be a hate crime to beat up the handicapped, right?
Look, you wanna prison rape Jake and that's fine. I want Simon Daye to eat **** and die, and that's fine. So lets do each other a favor and beat the holy **** out our partners for each other. After the show, I'll buy you some soap on a rope and a ice cream Sunday.
Deal?
Oh and one more thing...
Simon, go ahead and try and freak me again. Try it. But know this, Rob Mother Loving Diamond is completely and totally and utterly UN-FREAKABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SUCK IT!
{ It's now three in the morning and Rob Diamond is standing outside of his hotel in the cold, jacket zipped up, phone pressed to his ear. The look of pure anger and hatred tells us all we need to know as we hear him boarder line yelling. }
Rob: You don't have the right!
{ He paces as they respond on the other end. }
Rob: She's my daughter too Kate! I have rights.... No I don't care what the judge said... NO! You listen...
{ He's white knuckling the phone, you can hear stress fractures coming from his otter box. }
Rob: Look Kate, I have the right to see my kid... She was born in February and I haven't seen her one damn time... I just want to.... Listen... Dammit!....
{ Rob turns and slams his left fist into the stone wall of the hotel, blood begins to trickle down from the knuckles he just busted open. }
Rob: I sent some free passes to your apart with plane tickets, please come to Collision this week and let me see my kid for five minutes. All expenses paid.... Please... Fine... Good... See you Sunday.
{ Rob throws his back up against the wall and just slumps there for a couple of minutes before looking back down at his phone. He scrolls through it for a second before hitting a name and lifting it back up to his ear... }
Rob:... Hey Zee... You awake?
{ Fade. }